The Mark of Q
by leDaph
Summary: Sixth year wasn't supposed to be anything out of the ordinary for Alex - well, 'ordinary' is relative when you have international spies for parents and a secret identity to maintain. But her days of thwarting the Marauders are up... they're fighting back!
1. The Chapter of Smackdown

SIXTH YEAR

Paul and Amanda knew not to expect me at the feast. They were used to me slipping off every year after Hogwarts Express pulled into the station and this year, sixth year, was no different. Such good friends, they never even questioned my transportation method into Hogwarts castle.

I'd left Gryffindor Tower for last. The other House quarters were more difficult to conduct my yearly inspection, as I was in fact a Gryffindor. But, with the hardest ones done, and only the spell in the Ravenclaw common room needing to be recast because of slight fading, I was able to examine my spells in Gryffindor Tower quickly. The Sorting was probably finishing up by now, but time was still tight. House Elves would be along any minute with the Gryffindor trunks.

Luckily, all the Gryffindor spells were still holding strong. I was getting better at keeping them up through the summer. Second year had been a disaster – every single one left from first year had failed and needed to be replaced. After that I'd gotten into the habit of checking the ones in the House rooms during the feast. Others around the castle could be inspected anytime, I just needed to get to the House ones before they were swarming with students.

In my haste to leave I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings. I certainly didn't expect anyone else to be in my way. So when I came sliding down the railing of the girls dormitory spiraling staircase and crashed into something soft that went "oomph" it took me several moments to get over the shock.

"Do you mind?" said a male voice angrily as he untangled himself from me.

Okay, that was unreasonable. Getting angry at me just because he had planted himself in my way. In my day that was considered impolite. Clearly I was not dealing with a gentleman. "What the hell!" I exclaimed.

"Excuse me?" he said, and I looked up, still lying uncomfortably on the floor, to discover that it was Sirius Black.

Him. That changed things a bit. What was he doing here instead of at the feast? Under the pretense of slowly standing up I glanced at his hands. It looked like someone had been up to no good – there were smudges of flour on his fingers. From where he had been standing at the time of the crash he had probably just been coming out of the boys' stairs.

It was an old trick. Someone was going slide into their covers after a long day only to get a floury surprise. When they tried to wash off the flour, it would turn dough like and sticky.

He wouldn't dare sabotage the First Year beds. Would he? No, he'd learned his lesson years ago. First Years were off limits. Besides, if it was that big of a prank, all of the Marauders would be involved. Sirius wouldn't be sneaking around without his mates unless… the joke was on one of them.

Well, that was all right then. Just as long as it wasn't Peter. But it wouldn't be Peter, either, Sirius had also learned _that_ lesson years ago. Peter, too, was off limits.

"Oh dear, you've dropped your things," I said pleasantly, and bent back down to collect up the various items.

"Don't bother," Sirius said, so I handed him the empty flour sack I'd picked up. Someone needed to learn how to correctly dispose of evidence.

"Very original," I told him. "James Potter flirts with your girl so you flour his bed. That'll teach him."

Leaving Sirius standing there gaping, holding the limp flour sack, I headed out of the common room. Point one for process of elimination.

* * *

FIRST YEAR

_Headmaster Dumbledore entered his office, tired from the rigors of the first day of term at Hogwarts. This year hadn't started off as smoothly as others – during the feast four newly Sorted Gryffindor boys had tripped a Slytherin and poured cranberry sauce down his robes "by accident." Needless to say, Dumbledore was looking forward to a rest form the mayhem that had followed. _

_Dumbledore froze. His favorite comfy chair by the fire was already occupied. In it lounged a small figure languidly sipping a cup of steaming hot tea. A first year, he guessed, though the air of sophistication was worldly beyond her years. _

"_Hello Professor," she said with a slight American accent. A formative few years spent in the States, he thought unconsciously. No more than three, then travel in Europe, followed by a long stay in England. "My parents send their greetings."_

_The light from the fire shifted briefly onto her face and Dumbledore smiled to himself. The features were familiar – she was a perfect eleven year old image of her mother._

"_Thank you, Alex Moore," he said. "May I join you?"_

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

I took my usual place in Dumbledore's office, settling down by the fire and conjuring up the tea that was waiting in the kitchens. Ever since I'd first made myself known in almost the exact same position, it had become a habit. After the feast was over Dumbledore would join me.

It didn't take him long. I was halfway through my first cup when Dumbledore appeared.

"Well, my dear, you missed a fairly uneventful feast," he said blithely as I passed him the cup the teapot had poured out for him.

"I'm all in despair." I took another sip, waiting as he settled in.

"Nervous, excited young faces from the First Years, and much the same less the nerves from the returning students. A joyous occasion filled with promise for the new year."

"As one can only hope. "

"I trust your inspection went well?" he asked.

"Yes. Only the spell in the Ravenclaw–"

"I don't want to know," he said, smiling.

"Of course you don't," I said, giving him a little wink, which he laughed heartily at. "Although there was one incident…"

"Sirius Black?" He looked at me innocently over his spectacles.

"You know that because you saw his late entrance to the feast," I said, dismissing his attempt to be all knowing and wise. "Remember, your dramatic act doesn't work on me."

Dumbledore apologized humbly, and I told him about running into Sirius. He appreciated the pun.

"What did you do to the poor boy? He could barely enjoy his food."

"Nothing much, though it was tempting. I mean, I had Sirius Black in my hands…and I never did fully address the water episode last year. What a pity the situation was too overt for me to leave a Q."

* * *

FIRST YEAR

"_Detention won't work," Alex said suddenly. _

_Dumbledore kept his eyes on the four figures trudging across the courtyard below to attend their first detention as a result of the previous night's food fight. For all their reluctance they were laughing and joking around. "Oh? You prefer a harsher punishment? Perhaps I should give Filch the go ahead…"_

"_No." Alex nudged him, smiling slightly. "Not a harsher one – a different one."_

_Dumbledore was silent, giving her the chance to continue._

_Alex tapped her fingers rhythmically on the sill of the tower window. "They won't learn anything or change their ways because of a detention. It will just be a minor consequence causing them to hold a grudge against the system. And if they view the system as unjust, they'll be convinced rebellion in is the right. This will just give them a moral excuse to continue flouting rules and ignoring whatever compassion towards other lesser that their mothers tried to instill."_

Down below, at a hidden signal, three of the boys suddenly took off running, laughing as they left behind the bewildered fourth boy, the shortest and pudgiest of the lot. His shouts of "Wait!" and "Why'd you do that?" could be heard to the two watchers in the tower. 

"_That was cruel," Alex said quietly. "Not pulling wings off butterflies cruel, but horribly degrading to a human being's self confidence."_

"_All boys act that way," Dumbledore reminded her. Her passion about this topic of conversation was very interesting. With parents like hers, it was surprising to see such a strong sense of right and wrong in a young girl. However… he briefly wondered what her childhood had been like. Had she been bullied? Unlikely, given her parents. But, also given her parents, very likely she'd witnessed horrors most adults could not comprehend. She probably knew first hand how a depressed boy could grow into a cold blooded assassin. The thought of what this girl might have seen worried Dumbledore. It was quite possible her parents had not bothered to shelter her from any of it._

"_At their age, without any better example or role model, yes. But it's preventable. But I'll bet, before the hour long detention is finished, those four will be the largest behavior problem in Hogwarts." She watched the last boy run awkwardly after the others. _

"_Even that one?" he asked, curious as to her response. _

"_Yes. After detention he'll be one of their own. They won't abandon one of their own." She shrugged and gave him a wicked grin. "It's a Gryffindor trait, unfortunately," she said playfully._

_Dumbledore laughed at that, but wasn't fooled by her sudden change in tone. She'd thought she was showing too much emotion, not appearing as stoic as she would have liked. As stoic as experience had trained her. He silently promised to encourage her into seeing the wonders of life, instead of only the disappointing truth. "Fascinating," he said. "Shall we have tea again tomorrow?"_

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

I met Paul and Amanda later in the common room, which was almost empty at this late hour. Everyone had gone upstairs to crash except a few Fifth Years playing wizard chess in the corner. Wand in hand, I quickly charmed a sound proof barrier around my friends before joining them in lounging about on the couches.

"How's our Dumbledore?" Amanda asked in her usual nonchalant drawl.

"He's well," I told her. "Spent a few weeks in Morocco getting burned to a crisp. Told me he thinks the healing potion makes his toes tickle inexplicably."

But Amanda wasn't interested in gossiping about Dumbledore. "I have a friend with friends in high places," she'd once told me. "I can do without the grocery list updates. Trust me, given the opportunity, I can still shamelessly exploit the connection without them."

"Not inexplicably, then, if he knows the cause," Paul teased.

"Poor word choice," I admitted. "But it was rather dramatic, wouldn't you say?"

"I'll say," Amanda said, pointing at one of the chess players, "That one is going to lose. Alex, do your Q thing and stop the injustice."

"What? Why's he going to lose?" demanded Paul.

"His frienemy is cheating," I told him. We all watched, fascinated, as the cheater pulled a fake yawn to induce his victim into a real one, then took the opportunity to move a knight across the board. "I wish I could,' I said to Amanda, "but I always appreciate a cleverly pulled distraction. That was a good one."

We mused for a few minutes until Amanda grew bored and asked, "When do we start work?"

"Tomorrow," I said. "You deserve a break on the first day." I had impressed Paul and Amanda into service reviewing the "footage" from my watch spells, only to have my bestest friends rebel and demand payment. Now they got paid by the hour, the ungrateful weasels.

"Oh, pish. You say that only because you've already pulled something," dismissed Amanda.

"Really?" Paul perked up. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," I protested. Really, she was insufferably astute. "I happened to collide with Sirius Black on his way back from dumping flour into James Potter's bed. Bumped my elbow a bit."

"Please," Amanda drawled. "I know you were eavesdropping on the Marauders during the train ride." I didn't even have time to give my defense of keeping an eye on things so I'd know what I was dealing with this year. "We all heard the fight between James and Sirius. Of course your superior powers of deduction would predict Sirius' revenge. A floury collision with Gryffindor's number one bachelor? As if you didn't plan it, you minx."

Goodness, what a mix of compliments and preposterous accusations. Sure, I was a bit omnipresent, but to call that accident planned? If I had planned it, it wouldn't have been a crash. It would have been a smackdown, of course.

* * *

Author's Note: Well? You have questions, yes? Like, O Writer, what is this "Q" everyone is going on about? What is up with Alex's parents? And who took the cookie from the cookie jar? It was you. It was ALL you.

Chapter 2 coming up soon...


	2. The Chapter of Unbuttered Toast

Author's Note: Hip hip huzzah! Chap 2 is up. Thank you for the review, Cookies321! And now, please enjoy the madness...

* * *

FIRST YEAR

"_It's a problem," Alex announced, dropping her armful of books and papers onto Dumbledore's desk. _

"_What is, my dear?" the old professor asked. _

"_This." She pulled back her sleeves, revealing a red swelling indicating that a bruise was forming on her arm. _

"_You'll want to keep it, I suppose?" he said, examining the wound. _

"_Of course." She sniffed, then pulled out a list. Three feet of parchment unrolled over the desk, scattering quills and paperweights. _

"_Third Year Claw caught bullying a First Year into throwing away his tissues, off with a warning by Prefect," Dumbledore read out loud. "What is this?"_

"_A week's worth of hazing and bullying. In just one week of school, Hogwarts students have managed a hundred and sixty-nine offenses," said Alex matter of factly._

"_I see," Dumbledore murmured, peering through his spectacles at the parchment. "'Sly girls cause a Puff to cry because of mismatched socks, offense number forty-two.' Oh dear, I do believe my own are the same. Should I be worried?"_

_Alex gave him a Look. _

"_How do you know what goes on in the Slytherin girls dormitory? Or," he pointed down the list, "Hufflepuff common room?"_

_She smiled deviously. "I had a double free period last Wednesday. Perfect time to set a few things up. I was bored."_

"_So you put magical surveillance everywhere? That doesn't ring against your own moral compass?"_

"_Stop playing devil's advocate," Alex said. "You know me. You know that isn't going to guilt me into anything. I can't help the way I am."_

"_You mean, an unsatisfiable eavesdropper?"_

"_I just like to know what's going on," she protested._

"_Where did you even learn that spell?" asked Dumbledore. _

"_After Germany a couple years ago Father asked Aunt Elsa to teach me some basic charms. Anyways," she said to change the subject, "some Sly grabbed my arm so he could send me on an errand to fetch some slightly illegal substances from Filch's safekeeping."_

"_You refused?"_

"_Not exactly. I let him teach me how to open the locks – simple Alohomora – then walked off as if I were actually going to do it. Doubtless he thought I'd be easily scared into doing what he wanted."_

_Dumbledore gestured to the list. "Why have you brought me this?"_

"_It's proof that something needs to change. And I have an idea." Alex was sporting that wicked grin again. _

"_My dear, that sounds positively frightening," said Dumbledore._

_Alex shrugged. "Detention doesn't work. Points lost don't change anything. Expulsion creates a criminal for life. The only thing that will affect them is embarrassment. Embarrassing moments will stick with them forever."_

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

The next morning Dumbledore met me on the east tower to watch the sunrise.

"A fairly uneventful night," he greeted me, leaning against the stone.

The sky brightened another shade. "Apparently the flour joke didn't go forward as planned," I said.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "It didn't happen?" he said incredulously. As if he hadn't been hinting at that with his greeting! Bah.

I nodded. "Sirius must have cleaned it up. I heard nothing."

"Hm," Dumbledore stroked his beard. "I wonder why he would have done that."

Dumbledore always tries to appear naïve, but his innocent sounding questions contain many layers once you understand him. His trademark genius can sometimes be quite annoying. This time I didn't honor him with a response, only turned back to the peaceful sunrise.

We discussed politics and current news until the sky was fully brightened. Dumbledore broke off in his response to a question of mine about Britain's new prime minister to point out the time. "Aren't you going to breakfast?" he asked.

"I suppose I must." I sighed. Really, the duties of student life were not so thrilling. But one must keep up appearances. Being an anonymous, though familiar, face, just a common everyday student, was the perfect cover. People were used to seeing me around, but they probably didn't know my name. I wasn't distinguished in any class or club and kept to the background. It was the best way to stay under the radar and play the game as I wanted.

"Good. It gets noticed if you're absent from too many occasions. I assumed you don't want that."

I snorted. "No one would notice. I've created my character too perfectly. She's practically invisible."

"Ah, you've accomplished this by never making yourself noticed by anyone?" He was hinting at something again. Well, he was always hinting at something, it just usually didn't take me this long to understand.

I made my exit while I could without revealing that I had no idea what he was talking about. Silence and escape seemed the best way to go without admitting anything. Thus I managed the veneer of having the upper hand. Hey, think of me what you like, but it's my _style_ to always have the upper hand. _Style_ is everything. I call mine Versacci. I heard it's very stylish among muggles to be Versacci.

Breakfast wasn't supposed to be eventful. I didn't have anything planned, and I doubted anyone else would. I was enjoying a nice piece of toast while Amanda was describing to a couple First Years the route to the dungeons.

"But whatever you do, don't use the portrait corridor," she said suddenly. I almost choked on my toast. No way was she bringing that up now, in front of me. I was not going to be able to keep my cool.

"Why?" breathed the First Year boy, clearly impressed with Amanda's dramatic words.

"Three years ago," she whispered, theatrically leaning closer to the First Years, "Q flooded the corridor with sewage. They say some days you can still smell it."

She was immediately flooded with questions. They were, predictably, of a "What? Why? Who is Q?" nature.

Amanda widened her eyes. "You mean you don't know who Q is?"

Paul leaned over and whispered "I do," in my ear. This was too cruel. Both of them were having too much fun with this, at my expense.

"Well, no one really knows the true identity of Q," continued Amanda. "It started my first year, so Q has to be a Sixth year or older. Maybe Q graduated last year. No one knows. See, before Q, hazing was a large problem at Hogwarts. First Years like you were beaten up if older students wanted something. It was uncommon to see one without a black eye, bruises, or a limp. First Years never had any time to themselves, every moment was spent catering to the whims of the upperclassmen.

"Then Q came along, taking revenge on those who had bullied someone younger or weaker than them. It was always different – underwear displayed to the entire school, embarrassing photos leaked, suddenly having everyone at the table during breakfast throw food on you and run away, but whatever it was, it was always accompanied by a scrap of parchment signed with a Q. "

The First Years were hanging onto her every word. I was trying to hide behind Paul.

"Whoever Q is, he or she is a legend. Somehow Q always knows what you're doing. There's no hiding from Q. No place is safe. But," Amanda straightened up suddenly, startling the First Years, "as long as you stay on Q's good side, you have a champion."

Paul applauded the speech. Because of his movement I almost fell off the bench. While my face was rather close to the floor I happened to glance down the table – and finally realized what Dumbledore had been talking about.

The Marauders were seated farther down the Gryffindor table, on the same side. Sirius was looking about the room for someone while the others pointed people out and laughed and made jokes when Sirius shook his head.

Sirius was looking for me. The only reason I was undiscovered so far was because about ten people sat between us, providing an effective shield, unless he were to stand up or peer to the side, as I had done.

Dumbledore had been trying to say that I had made myself memorable to Sirius and thus was invisible no longer.

"Curses," I cursed. Amanda continued crafting a ballad like tale of Q's exploits to the impressed First Years, but Paul heard me.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"Sirius Black is looking for me. Can I borrow your glasses?"

He gave them to me, confused but unquestioning. I have trained him well. I knotted my hair up into a bun in order to make its length indeterminate. Couldn't do anything about the color, but it was a good enough makeshift disguise without being too obviously a disguise.

"Will that do anything?" Paul asked.

"If he's only looking for the face and hair he saw last night, yes. Sirius isn't very perceptive. I doubt he's remembered much about what I look like," I said.

Paul glanced down the table. "They're looking at black haired girls," he observed.

"Good." I grinned. "The shadows must have made mine seem darker, or Sirius really is blind."

"You know," Paul said, "I've always thought so. Remember that time you created a new broken step in his path, dropped a Q as a warning (which everyone noticed), and he still stepped in it?"

"Shh!" I whispered. "It would be nice to keep some sort of secrecy and not have you blab on in public. People are listening."

"Like who?" Paul snorted. "No one cares enough to eavesdrop on our conversation."

I looked pointedly down the table.

"They can't hear me," he dismissed. "Now, how much longer do you need those glasses for? I can't tell if this is toast is buttered or not."

I reached a hand out and felt the top. "It's not buttered."

He looked aghast. "How could you! I was going to eat that! Why with the touchy feely!?"

"Hey, I can't see any more clearly than you. Your glasses make everything fuzzy," I protested.

"Of course, Paul. Alex had to use her other senses. Simple logic. Spies use whatever resources get the job done quickly," Amanda broke in.

"No using the s-word in public," I said.

"But she petted my toast!" protested Paul.

"You wanted an answer. I gave you one," I defended. "Maybe you should reconsider asking questions if you aren't prepared for Machiavellian solutions."

"Alex," he said pointedly, "most people do not readily provide Machiavellian solutions. This is because most people are not ruthless immoral spies."

"The s-word again!" I exclaimed. "And I am not immoral. What do you call my defense of the downtrodden?"

"Alliteration. What do you call secretly watching every single person in Hogwarts?" retorted Paul. "Give me back my glasses."

"No. I need them."

He tried to snatch them off my face. It didn't work because I have highly trained reflexes while he has less than perfect depth perception without his glasses. Why do people always think they can out maneuver me? Don't they learn their lesson after falling down a few times for seemingly no apparent reason whenever they try to do things to me? The world is full of idiots. If I had a penny, etc etc.

"Stop! You're attracting attention," I tried to say mid-dodge. Paul continued on, a determined look on his face, so I decided to escape. Using Amanda as a shield I left the Great Hall. Once outside, safely away, I finally gave him back his glasses. He grumbled about it under his breath until Amanda handed him a limp piece of bread and told him she'd brought his toast. Then he was too disgusted to complain any more. Silly children.

I ran away to class before they could create any more attention grabbing disturbances. Eventually they followed me. The first day of class was rather important, though I can't say it had much influence on me. What was more informing than the academic material was the conversation I overheard while sitting in Transfiguration.

* * *

Author's Note: More on the way. Next chapter we greet our favorite Cissa, Bella, and Lucius. Only one thing to say to that: Growl.

Reviews make me keep typing!


	3. The Chapter of The Dark Side

Author's Note: Just to make it officially established, I am ignoring certain age differences in order to get our favorite girls (and little Lucius) in the story. The Maraudersfun but the Dark Sidedeliciousness. We love Snapey too, but let's face it - he creates his appeal in the later years. Young!Snape spends too much time wibbling to be awesome.

* * *

FIRST YEAR

"_Q," Dumbledore repeated. "Any reason you singled out this particular alias?"  
_

_Alex shrugged. "Nope. I was thinking more along the lines of the Savior, but obviously that one is already taken. The Pharmacist was another choice. My second favorite was Sweeperman."_

"_I would have suggested She Who Must Go To Astronomy Class."_

"_Hm," Alex teasingly considered. "Good one, but a little revealing with the gender."_

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

Amanda and I had taken our usual seats in class – in the middle of the room, off to one side a bit, which was such an average position it was even more invisible than sitting in the back. People in the back or the front of the room are too noticeable.

Which either the Marauders hadn't figured out yet, or had and preferred the attention. The four of them were sitting in the back of Transfiguration, occupied in their usual activity of whispered conversation while Peter diligently took notes.

I bent over my own scribbles (which were complete nonsense), and whispered a spell to improve my hearing. This version of the spell was extremely useful – it could be concentrated to only one area. Invented by a German in 1925 and kept as top secret information until leaked to the British in the thirties, the spell was still not common knowledge. But with connections like mine…

My quill still madly scratching on the parchment, I adjusted my hearing so the conversation from the back of the room was amplified to my ears only. Amanda curiously leaned over and read what I had written, which was somehow the word "minimum" over and over. (What can I say, it's a really fun word to write quickly in cursive. Go ahead, try it.) Her own notes were about some teaspoon spell which assumingly was the topic of the lecture. I wouldn't know; I haven't actually paid attention in class for years. It's rather liberating, being a slightly less than average student. Motivation: not really topping my list of qualities.

Though somehow I managed to sneak in the exact minimum O.W.L. needed for all the core classes (Astronomy, Charms, Defense, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions, and Transfig.) Hm, imagine that. This year, in order to keep my classes to a minimum, I'd only signed up for Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Between the two of them, Amanda and Paul covered most of the others.

"–and you don't even make any sense," Remus was saying.

"I make perfect sense," defended Sirius. "How do you not understand?"

"Maybe, um, the fact that two seconds ago you said this girl was a brunette with blue eyes and black hair," said James sarcastically.

"Right," Sirius said.

"There's something wrong in your head, mate. That's physically impossible. And you still haven't been able to give a good explanation of why you need to find this girl," James said.

"It's – complicated," faltered Sirius.

"Some story about mind reading is more than complicated – it's nonsense," pointed out James.

"And you said," put in Peter, "that she was under 5'4" and then later you said she was at least 5'10" because she was almost as tall as you."

"Hey, it was hard to tell. She was crawling on the ground and didn't stand up until the last possible moment," Sirius said indignantly.

"But your description doesn't fit anyone in Gryffindor," Remus said.

"You're obsessed," concluded James, "with someone who doesn't exist."

"She does too!" he protested. "I can't believe I'd never seen her before… I would have noticed someone like that," he finished lamely. I smiled to myself. As if you'd notice me unless if I permitted you to!

"Mate, we looked this morning in the Gryffindor common room and we looked during breakfast while every student in school was in the Great Hall. Look around the room right now. See anyone you don't recognize amongst the people you've gone to school with for years? See the girl you're looking for? No to both questions? That's because she _does not exist,"_ insisted James.

"I hate to tell you this, but you drank some interesting things yesterday," said Remus, trying to be sympathetic. "Hallucinations are a common side effect. And we're all feeling a bit hung over."

Sirius just groaned.

I grinned at his pain. The other Marauders were so nice to do my job for me. How considerate of them. One less security breach for me to deal with. One day I'll bake them cookies to show my thanks. But first I'll go to cooking school and become a renown French chef. Even first before that I'll become French. Now that's a gift with true effort!

Amanda poked me suddenly. "You can stop taking notes now," she whispered.

She was right; McGonagall had finished the lecture. I looked down. My notes said something about intergalactic domination. Goodness, even my subconscious was conspiring. Perhaps Amanda is also right when she says I'm not like other people. Well, she says I'm mental in a way there's no medicine for, but it comes down to the same thing.

My only other class was a double period of Charms, but after that Paul and I were free for the day while Amanda was in Divination. I convinced him to a walk by the lake before I sent him to his job looking over the day's captures from the watching spells. A few groups of kids had the same idea. Some were even sunbathing on the beach. A couple boys were tossing a Muggle ball around by the shore. Whenever it landed in the water, something, possibly tentacled, always flung it back out. All in all, it was a pretty hoppin hangout. Looking around, it was obvious everyone was at least Sixth Year. Younger students still had class.

Without any warning, Paul suddenly veered off from our stroll.

"Are we practicing our evasive tactics?" I asked as I followed him off the path into some bushes.

He didn't even look at me, but when I was finished pushing my way through the branches I saw the source of his distraction.

"Ah, the allure of the dark side," I muttered. Paul had discovered Bella and Cissa Black along with Lucius Malfoy in their favorite spot under the trees. After discovering that the Marauders had named their own posse, I'd nicknamed these three the Aristos.

"If I were Amanda, I'd say something pointedly about Sirius," Paul shot at me over his shoulder and then went back to staring at Bella.

I crouched next to him, peering through the screening of the bushes. "You know, your fixation on Bella is a little creepy. Isn't this a bit stalkerish?"

"It's nothing different than what hordes of girls do everyday to Sirius Black and James Potter. I'm just admiring beauty," he said. "Beauty is art. Think of it as art appreciation. A perfectly normal hobby for anyone to have."

Ha. Major eyeroll. But it was true, the Marauders and the Aristos dominated Hogwarts. With such delicious eye candy in both groups, they left drooling young people wherever they went. The ­­­­Aristos maintained their position as the elite of Hogwarts by so much snobbery and arrogance that everyone seemed to believe they really were of a higher class.

The Marauders and the Aristos, in fact, had so much influence over the entire student population of Hogwarts (intimate details of their personal lives were a staple of daily gossip) that they could cause much damage if they were constantly kept under strict surveillance by yours truly.

It was something I'd quickly learned to do. By playing the Marauders and the Aristos off each other, I'd kept them both occupied for years. Perhaps the infamous rivalry would never have happened without my help and constant fuel. But it was the perfect solution for keeping them out of trouble. So much friction was created between them that very little time was left for hating on lowerclassmen.

"Oh, look," said Bella, reclining against the rock Cissa was sitting on, while Lucius sat a little closer to the water's edge, tossing rocks into the lake. "Trouble."

Paul and I both tried to shift noiselessly in the bushes to see what Bella was referring to. No surprise. The Marauders had arrived.

"Is that a statement or an offer?" James grinned suggestively.

Bella rolled her eyes and ran her fingers through her long black hair. "Cousin," she drawled to Sirius, "It offends me." By her insulting tone, 'It' referred to James.

Sirius sauntered up next to James and stopped, casually putting his hands in his pockets. "Cousin," he drawled back mockingly, "you lost 'it' so long ago I doubt 'it' could possibly offend you."

James and Remus burst out laughing. Bella kept a bemused smile on her face as she waited for their guffaws to die down. "Amateur wordplay is so…tiring," she said to Cissa.

"The art has been lost," Cissa agreed. "Pity."

Lucius stood up elegantly. He did everything elegantly. "It's been a pleasure," he told the Marauders in a lazy voice. "We regret to depart. You leave me desolate." He offered his hand to Bella and the three left while James was trying to figure out what the word desolate meant and if it meant Lucius was hitting on them.

He voiced his concerns out loud. Even though Remus quickly provided the definition, this opened up a discussion on Lucius' sexual orientation.

"No straight man is that groomed," argued James.

"You care about you appearance twice as much as any girl. Is there anything you aren't telling us?" asked Sirius slyly.

James punched him on the shoulder. "So says Mr. Can't Settle on a Girl for More Than 3 Weeks. Is it restlessness? Always feeling like you're unsatisfied? An unexplainable need that's never been met…"

Remus snorted.

Sirius eyed James flirtatiously. "How 'bout it, Prongs?"

James over exaggerated a stricken expression, causing the others to laugh.

Paul and I waited silently until they were gone. Once their laughs had faded into the distance I pushed out of the bush.

"That was enlightening," commented Paul, joining me.

"Are you jealous?" I joked.

"Hm yes. Terribly. If only I had someone to comfort me…someone like Bella Black…"

Oh my ears. They bleed. Someone tackle that boy. I'd do it myself if not for the style thing. Keeping my hands clean involves getting other people to do the dirty work. The squeaky feeling I just can't give up. And then there's public relations and image to worry about…

We split up for the rest of the day, Paul and Amanda reviewing the surveillance from the different Houses while I ran a few errands. When I was back in the Lair, our "headquarters," a password protected secret room in Gryffindor Tower, Amanda briefed me while Paul did our schoolwork. Nothing really interesting had occurred except, Amanda was delighted to say, her young gossips from the morning had spread the word about Q throughout the entire First Year population. This made Amanda very pleased with herself. She likes holding the reins of power. If I let her, she'd be a terror to the school.

Once she finished she went back to working. She plunged back into a bowl of what deceptively looked like a Pensieve. The bowl was filled with a silvery liquid, but it wasn't memories like in a Pensieve. This substance, called Regardiun, was the key to the watching spells. Similar bowls covered every surface in the Lair. Most were labeled with the area of Hogwarts they showed. Some I'd never dared try. I swear I didn't create half the bowls in the room. I have this theory that they spawn when you're not looking. A fun (a dangerous Russian roulette kind of fun) game we played was to dare each other to try unlabeled bowls of Regardiun to see where they led.

Now that I'd finished my "errands," all the bowls were active and gave off a slight silver glow. I call them bowls euphemistically, because when some were made the nearest container had been, say, a mug or flower pot. There was even a sneaker and a top hat. The top hat is one of the spawned ones. No clue where I would have gotten a top hat. It probably came from Tesla and Angier.

Amanda reappeared a few moments later. "Alex, you've got to see this," she said, and immediately went back in. I dipped a finger in the Regardiun and followed her into the Sly common room. We emerged from the corner the spell has located in. It would allow us to walk unobserved around the room as if we were actually there, much like the effects of a normal Pensieve, but in real time, not a memory. Using the spell word Negatif it was possible to rewind the scene of the room to view what had happened earlier in time. The only limit was that we were not able to leave the room the watching spell was in because the Regardiun was keyed only to those walls.

A Sly named Daz Grewlin was harassing a younger girl who was trying to read in an armchair. A few of his friends stood around, laughing. Daz, a Beater on the Quidditch team, had been trouble in the past. Apparently he hadn't learned his lesson after reaching for his clothes and robes one day in the locker room after showering and finding just a scrap of paper with the signature Q. His trip across the grounds covered in a towel had been accompanied by enough ridicule he'd been kept in line for a very long time.

Amanda walked over to Daz and punched him in the nose. Her fist went, unnoticed, straight through his face. His teasing continued. The girl was trying hard to ignore him, sinking down in the chair and focusing on her book instead, but I could see tears in the corners of her eyes. Amanda looked at me. "How are we going to take down this bastard?"

"The last prank frightened him pretty well, didn't it?" I mused.

"For weeks, yes," she said. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm going to need some wrapping paper."

* * *

Author's Note: Updates come every week, sooner if I'm particularly inspired. Reviews are inspiring. Nudge nudge wink wink.

At the very least, post your favorite word (no explanation required ,all languages acceptable) and add to your Story Alerts. My favorite word at the moment is Nietzschean.


	4. The Chapter of Violence Resorted To

Author's Note: This took me a little longer than my usual week because I had finals and graduation, BUT it's a little longer. So be pleased. Um, my characters have kind of bounded away from me... Alex wasn't originally supposed to be slightly insane. I guess I can't stop her, though... having so much power and keeping it from corrupting requires one to have an odd sense of humor. It's interesting... she's both mature and extremely child-like at the same time.

* * *

SECOND YEAR

"_James Potter has an invisibility cloak?" asked Amanda incredulously._

"_I've worn it myself," Alex affirmed. "Please, move your foot."_

_Amanda shifted to the left so Alex could place a new bowl of Regardiun on the table. _

"_Some people have house plants," Alex said fondly, rotating the bowl so its label was visible. _

"_I can't believe it!" Amanda continued. "Hey, wouldn't that be the perfect thing for us? Don't you wish we had one? The nightly adventures would be so much easier."_

"_I do have one," Alex said. _

"_You do!?" Amanda cried. "Can I see it? Why haven't you told me? Why don't you USE IT?"_

"_Invisibility cloaks are so impractical. You have to be slow and careful, and a floating finger takes more to explain away than your regular body. Muggles have these devices that show body heat, which you can mimic with a simple charm, and a cloak doesn't fool that. Once caught, the cloak basically condemns you because it proves you were sneaking around," explained Alex. "I prefer speed and occasionally a silencing charm."_

"_You're crazy." Amanda shook her head. "No one knows any spells that reveal an invisibility cloak."_

"_Fine. Follow me," Alex turned. After showing Amanda her cloak and teaching her the charm, Amanda had to reluctantly agree that the appeal of the cloak faded somewhat. It was cumbersome and rather awkward, as Alex had said. _

_Amanda still thought Alex was crazy to have an invisibility cloak and never use it, especially since she spent so much time in what could easily become compromising situations. _

_But Alex always did things 'old fashioned.' Paul finally told Amanda to drop it, reasoning that Alex was addicted to the thrill and things like invisibility cloaks were an everyday item to her._

_It was partly true. _

_The real reason was that Alex couldn't stand being bored. Danger kept her occupied. An invisibility cloak just wasn't any fun._

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

"The last one is in place," Paul announced, plopping down on the floor of the Lair. "Your turn now, Alex."

I stood up and brushed off my hands. "My favorite part."

"Remember: stealth like a tiger," came Amanda's drawl from the corner.

"What helpful advice," I said dryly.

"We'll be watching from the Regardiun," she offered. "You won't see us, but _we'll be there_."

"A ghostly hand on my elbow, I suppose? Your silent presence behind my shoulder? What supportive friends."

Paul shivered. "Creepy. Don't worry, Alex. I won't let Amanda anywhere near the Regardiun. Work in peace."

I saluted and commando rolled out of the room, much to their amusement.

* * *

_When Daz opened his eyes the next morning a present was waiting for him. Literally. A small gold box tied up with ribbon and a gift tag rested next to him on his pillow. _

_Daz hollered and jumped up. This woke up the others in the dormitory, who soon came to investigate. _

"_Don't open it!" fervently said a friend, staring at the gift tag. It was almost as large as the present itself, by that wasn't what was frightening the five boys so that none of them would go closer than five meters. Prominently displayed on the tag was the inscription "From, Q" elegantly flourished._

"_It's something awful," said someone else. "You can't open it. Who knows what horrible thing is in there."_

"_What if it's like a Howler? What if he has to?" whispered someone, who was quickly hushed. _

"_Get rid of it quickly," advised Daz's best friend. _

_Daz's hands shaking so much he could barely hold his wand straight. His friend grabbed his own wand and muttered something. The box disappeared with a poof. "It's at the bottom of the lake," he announced._

_A cheer went up. Daz clasped him on the shoulder. "Dude, you saved my life."_

_They separated, everyone feeling relieved, to prepare for the day. Five minutes later Daz shrieked again. Only two guys were still in the room, but they rushed to his side. On top of some clothes in Daz's trunk was the same little gold box, the tag still cheekily portraying the frightful Q. _

_They all pulled out their wads and zapped it at the same time. When it was gone, much confused conversation ensued. _

_When Daz entered the Great Hall for breakfast the gold box was sitting on the table. He set it on fire and the entire Slytherin table cheered as it burned. By then all of them knew about Daz's present from Q._

* * *

I peered over at the Sly table as they raised a roar. "Goodness, what do you suppose that's all about?"

Paul choked suddenly as he tried to hold back laughter.

"Anything a Sly has to be excited about is cannot mean anything good," said Amanda with a sniff.

The Slys had attracted the attention of everyone in the Great Hall. Much pointing and confusion was occurring. Students walking by paused to ask a Sly what was happening. Within a few minutes, though, everything had quieted back down to the normal degree of chaos.

Then the morning mail arrived. Swooping owls filled the room, dropping letters and packages into outstretched arms.

A familiar gold box fell into Daz's hands. He cursed violently and leapt backward, almost falling over the bench.

Everyone who could see what was happening stared. Daz quickly picked it up and chucked it across the room. It landed somewhere on the Puff table. From my viewpoint I could see it bounce off a Puff who immediately flung it back. All Daz could see, however, was that the box was once again flying in the air, this time towards him.

"Holy crap," he cried. "It comes back!"

It landed on the floor to relative silence, which didn't last long. A sound like a pop of air followed and I saw some smoke. I think someone exploded it. I stopped paying attention after that. I already knew what would happen next.

I turned to Amanda as every Gryff rose from the table to get a better look at the Slys. "How are the grapes this morning?"

"Fresh, thank you," she replied without missing a beat. I reached out and plucked one from the platter before me.

"Don't eat that!" exclaimed Paul, grabbing my arm.

"Why?"

"Amanda never ate any. You can't trust her word."

"Are you saying they're poisoned? By Amanda?" I asked in tones of mock disbelief. "Amanda! How could you betray me like this? You were supposed to poison _Paul's_ grapes."

"I didn't poison anyone's grapes," she drawled.

I narrowed my eyes. "You're right," I told Paul. "She denied it too quickly. It's suspicious."

We proceeded to force feed Amanda grapes. If they were poisoned, it was no deadly venom I'd ever heard of. Disappointingly, she didn't die, turn blue, start gasping, fall on the floor writhing, or exhibit any other sort of amusing behavior. Or it was just slow acting….

Dumbledore wasn't in his study later that night. I hadn't seen him for two days now. It wasn't unusual for him to be gone; in fact, he spent more time away from Hogwarts than in the castle during term. But he always let me know whenever he left. The staff came into contact with him only occasionally, and they were acting as if he were still in residence. His leave must have occurred very quickly if I hadn't been informed. He hadn't even left me a note. Whatever called him away had better be extremely delicate and important, Armageddon important, or someone was going to be in a lot of trouble.

If it had been any other person, I would have been able to obtain all sorts of information about them in a second. But I knew absolutely nothing about Dumbledore besides what he personally told me. I'd promised him immunity once and my respect for him wouldn't let me violate that. So I had nothing with which to investigate.

By the end of the week there was still no sign of our esteemed Headmaster. Except for me, Paul, and Amanda, no one in the entire school seemed to know he was gone.

It was making me grumpy.

"Why the grumpy?" Paul asked, flopping onto the arm chair next to me. "It's finally the weekend."

"I can't help it," I said. "I _need_ to know where Dumbledore is."

Amanda snorted. "He'll be back soon," she said, admiring her fingernails. "You don't need him for anything at this moment. Have some patience."

"Grumble," I muttered crossly.

"Having a secret kept from you – now _that_ will do you some good," she added, smirking.

I groaned and sank further down into the chair. Yeah, I looked pathetic, but I was not in the mood.

"Remember Daz. Maybe it'll brighten you up," suggested Paul. He was referring to our prank. The gold box had popped up for days, driving Daz into shrieking hysterics, until he had lost weight and started pulling out his hair from being frightened out of his wits. Finally, after Daz had been reduced to a blubbering mess when the box had appeared again in his History of Magic class, someone had dared open it.

It had been absolutely empty, and Daz was now the laughingstock of the entire school.

"There now, a smile!" Paul said. He got up and patted the top of my head. "I'm going to sleep…and then I'll sleep in tomorrow…and the day after that…."

Amanda followed him to the dormitory stairs. "While you're sulking, try not to stay up _too_ late. It ruins your complexion, darling."

It really was rather late. I was now left alone in the common room, with the fire as the only light. The half moon was shining through the windows, but it wasn't doing much.

I was too busy sulking, having slid all the way down in the arm chair so that my legs extended out for some distance before my knees bent to the floor, with my arms on the arms rests to keep myself from falling all the way onto the floor, that I didn't hear anyone enter the room.

"What is this?" said a masculine voice by my ear.

Too much experience of Dumbledore doing the same – curse him for his silent entrance skills, which apparently Sirius Black had somehow also acquired – had rather dulled my reflexes. I didn't move. My eyes stayed lazily fixed in front of me.

"This is me in a sulk," I informed him. Was he blind??

"I gathered that from observation." Amusement shone through his voice. "Though it seems a bit out of character for you."

"Indeed? I shall have to get my part rewritten. What are my next lines, O wondrous playwright?"

"In your next line," he said, going down on his knees in front of me so that he could look my in the eye, "You present this lowly stagehand with an introduction, and condescend to explain why such a gifted and much sought after actress has managed to remain anonymous to her audience."

"The gift of the player must be great indeed, to illusion every role as if it were truth. What limits would such a gift have? Anything and everything would be possible." I tossed the words into the air lightly, refusing to look at Sirius directly. My eyes stayed fixed staring dreamily straight ahead.

Much to my irritation, I could practically _feel_ him smile. "You speak of illusion. Perhaps, specifically, an illusion which appears to be quickly unraveling? You couldn't have possibly stayed hidden from me."

"_Me_, hide from _you?_ Preposterous! I don't have anything to hide." Well, maybe the fact that honesty was relative. But I'm _such_ a good liar that I'm practically an artist. Which means I must practice to maintain the skill. Sketchy logic? Not at all! What are you talking about.

"You hide your identity," he pointed out.

"And you hide yours. What fun! We're even."

"I have no idea what you refer to. If you want to be even, though…" he offered me his hand to shake. "Sirius Black, Sixth Year Gryffindor."

I took his hand, using it instead to get out of the chair. Though unprepared for the weight, he covered it up well, and rose from his knees once I was standing.

"Charmed. Interesting that you introduced yourself as a Gryff." I kept his hand, but did not shake it.

"I suppose it's obvious­—" he tried to apologize, not attempting to shake hands either, but also not letting go. Standing face to face holding hands might have been an awkward position, but it somehow didn't feel that way.

"Yes, the obvious assumption _is_ that the person standing before you in the Gryff common room is indeed a Gryff."

"Is that a hint? One of the few facts I know about you is that you are a Gryffindor, and even that may be fiction? Yet here you are. And here I've meet you twice. Tell me, is it your usual practice to preside in common rooms not of your own House? The truth, now."

"Yes," I said truthfully. "And those other few facts are…?"

"Not telling." Sirius grinned like a little boy. "If you want information from me, you'll have to give me information about yourself."

"I just answered an incriminating question honestly," I argued.

"Oh?" Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Is honesty really so rare for you that you feel it deserves a reward?"

I noticed suddenly that my hand was still in his, outstretched between us. He felt unusually close. "Yes, well, hm…" I said, dancing away. It wasn't a very good distraction, because he closed his grip harder and pulled me back, this time even closer.

His black hair flopping attractively into his eyes, which were gazing unwavering into mine, Sirius was too damned handsome up close. For once in my life I couldn't think of a thing to say. Except… "I don't know if you're trying to be romantic or what, but this is a really uncomfortable position to be in, so if you could kindly let go so that I don't have to resort to violence…"

Sirius didn't move. Him looking at me like that was very unnerving. "If you insist." I flicked out my wand in my left hand, tapped it against him, and he was soon flying backwards and knocking very hard into the wall with a painful exhale.

As he tried to catch his breath I tossed him back his wand, which I'd taken from his robes. He caught it somehow, but I'd already turned towards the portrait hole. As I exited the common room I paused to look over my shoulder. Okay, it was a bit dramatic, but the play called for such a moment.

Sirius was not one to disappoint the needs of a performance. "Who are you?" he shouted, firelight flickering on his black hair, just as dramatic. I grinned at him and applauded, as the portrait swung close, leaving me in the corridor.

He would follow any second. I sprinted down the corridor, then slowed to a walk when I heard the portrait opening again. Sirius only caught a glimpse of me rounding the corner.

Beautiful choreography. I could never resist a well put together drama. Exit, stage left.

* * *

Author's Note: I have a Question. Is it normal to get hundreds of hits on a story but only one review? Don't make me start using awful cliff hangers!


	5. The Chapter of Mussel

Author's Note: This is sort of a filler chapter, because I'm not too inspired at the moment. Reviews are always helpful. See, I type even when I'm not inspired, and it turns out a bit odd, as you are about to see...

And I have some explaining to do. Whenever I didn't know what to write I would turn to my sister and ask her what happened next, and she would say something really funny but really random and I'd improve it somewhat or make it even more random and we'd have a good laugh and then I'd acually type it up anyway. So some things may not make any sense if you weren't there, and I'm betting you weren't.

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

I ducked into the Lair and bounded to a teacup of Regardiun, which was unlabeled, on account of its existence being a secret from Paul. He'd made me promise not to put any spells up in his dormitory or key any Regardiun to the room or anything of the like. I'd had to sign a document, actually, before he was satisfied.

But, being their same Year, Paul happened to share a dormitory with the Marauders. So this flowery pink and white teacup was kept a secret. It was tucked away in a corner, looking entire unsuspecting. Who would expect a tiny, delicate, floral patterned thing like that to lead to such a place of manly goodness? I mean…not that I ever use it for my own selfish purposes, of course…but the temptation…mmm, manly goodness….

Amanda suspected I'd broken contract, but Paul refused to, preferring to remain blissfully ignorant, I suppose. Good for him. Judging by what I'd seen…I _mean_, what I _hadn't_ seen but _very accurately_ assumed…any extra little bits of innocence were highly needed.

Putting a finger into the teacup took me to the shadowy dormitory, four poster beds with snoring occupants lining the walls. The room was a mess. Well, that was expected in the personal space of ten teenage boys.

I was just in time. Sirius burst into the room and practically lept onto the sleeping James.

"The Map," he hissed, shaking James violently. "Prongs! Where is the Map?"

James groaned and tried to hit Sirius, who avoided it easily. After a shady looking tussle, one with suspicious intentions, they both fell off the bed. James was fully awake now.

"Get off!" he growled, shoving Sirius to the side. "It's in the hiding spot, where else, you mussel!?"

Sirius paused. "What did you just call me?"

James paused too. "I got up early today, thanks to you. I can't be held accountable for my words."

Sirius gave him a sideways glance before reaching underneath his bed…and pulling out a shoebox…with TOP SECRET written on the top in big red letters…OKAY, SERIOUSLY? Am I the only one seeing this? (Yes.)

After pulling it out eagerly, Sirius jumped up and frantically scanned the parchment. James watched, confused, as Sirius turned it sideways, upside-down, unfolded and refolded some bits, voilently flapped it in the air with one hand, then peered at it again.

"Mate, what are you looking for?" asked James.

"I was just talking to her…" muttered Sirius. "She's not on here."

"Who?"

"Her! That girl! Three seconds ago I saw her disappear down this corridor," he jabbed the parchment with a finger to show James. James took the Map and examined it more closely. "There's no one there," he said astutely.

"I know!" snapped Sirius. "That's why I said, and I quote, 'I was just talking to her… She's not on here.' Did you think I was having a joke?"

"No need to get snappy," said James. "She couldn't have gotten far if you were just talking to her…if you _were_ just talking to her."

"Are you suggesting–" Sirius frowned.

"Yes. Maybe. Look, mate. It's late. The Map doesn't show anyone outside their House rooms. You've been obsessed with this mystery girl for a week. You just fell asleep, and had a fantasy…it wouldn't be the first time."

"I'm going to ignore that and pretend you are a supportive person," Sirius said. "I can tell you our entire conversation. I was coming in from–er, the thing with the person–and I saw her in the common room, so I said 'What is this?' and she said 'Sirius, you handsome devil, your friends don't believe I exist, so to support their growing diagnosis that you are crazy, I am not going to give you my name, and by the way, I don't seem to show up on your Marauder's Map, further evidence that you are seeing things. See, it's a joke, because I actually _do_ exist, as evidenced by me talking right now, but it's just funnier when everyone thinks you are crazy, so I'm having a laugh at your expense.' I'm paraphrasing, mind you."

James just looked at him.

"I can see you don't believe me," continued Sirius. "I'm not even going to tell you what happened next, when I had her hand and pulled her close and it was exactly like the sensation you describe when you talk about accidentally touching Lily and I always make fun of you, and when she ruined the moment with some amazing spell that made me slam backwards against the wall. So there."

James continued looking at him.

"I may really be crazy, because I keep wondering if she felt it too, and was really good at hiding it–­which is impossible, because she would have had no reason to knock me backwards, then­–or if it was just me? And if it was just me I may throw myself out the window." Sirius actually started towards the window, but James quickly grabbed him.

I cannot be the only one to notice that there is an awful lot of physical activity happening between these two insanely good looking guys.

To give them some alone time, I returned to the Lair. No one can say I'm not respectful of privacy. I think it was very mature of me to let them have their moment together.

Amanda woke when I was sliding into my bed a few minutes later, making me wonder how Sirius and James hadn't woken up everyone in their dormitory while they were…chatting. I didn't bother to share what had happened. I don't quite know why. But then, I don't share a lot of things with Amanda. This wasn't any different.

Dumbledore still hadn't returned in the morning. _What_ was the man doing? After pacing in his study for a considerable time I joined my friends in the common room after breakfast.

"You avoided breakfast," was the first thing Amanda said to me. "And you didn't tell me what happened last night."

I opened my mouth to deny everything, but she continued. "Don't try to deny it. I know when there's something you aren't telling me."

I thought for a moment. "Fine, stalker. I'll tell you."

"Good,"

"I'm warning you, however, it's not something you want to hear…"

"I'm sure I can handle it," she said dryly.

"If you're sure. Paul and I just wanted you out of the way last night so we could do naughty things but I was embarrassed to see him again this morning so I hid until I could be sure it wouldn't be uncomfortable for him."

"ALEX!" Paul roared, lunging at me.

"See?" I cried as I ducked out of the way. "He didn't want me to tell you and now he's trying to make me quiet…permanently…!"

Paul tried to tackle me again.

"Enough!" shouted Amanda. "Release him."

I let Paul regain his arm, which I'd twisted behind his back. "He started it," I said.

Obviously, they didn't accept my defense, but it had the fortunate effect of losing the previous thread of conversation. Amanda forgot all about the prying.

And then we had the entire day to ourselves. So of course we were extremely bored with no idea what to do. Such is the nature of all things, Confucius say.

"We could try some of the unknown Regardiun," suggested Paul.

"Have you learned nothing from last time, with the bottom of the lake, and the Forbidden Forest, and the dung heap?" Amanda said,

"I have an idea," I said excitedly.

"Lead on," intoned Paul and Amanda together. Then they looked at each other suspiciously.

That's how we ended up on the spiral staircase in Ravenclaw Tower outside the door.

Paul knocked once with the bronze eagle knocker. We all stood back.

The eagle spoke. "Which weighs more, a kilogram of feathers or a kilogram of gold?"

Paul snorted. "Easy. Neither. They both­–"

"Very perceptive," said the eagle, and the door started to swing open.

"–do not exist in the realm of reality, and thus cannot be compared by a tangible category like 'mass'," he finished.

The door slammed shut. "Er…what?" said the eagle, its soft voice sounding confused.

Amanda grinned evilly. "My turn," she told the knocker.

"Which weighs more, a kilogram of feathers or a kilogram of gold?" it asked again.

"A kilogram of yesterday," she replied.

"Yesterday?" asked the eagle.

"Yesterday," she confirmed. "Yesterday is a fun word."

"It's like, Sunday is a day full of sun and Thursday is a day full of thurs. Yesterday is a day full of yesters," I added helpfully.

"You stole my yester," Paul said to Amanda. "I want it back."

"But that was yesterday!" she protested. "If you steal a yester on yesterday you get to keep it. That's why it's called yesterday. It's a special occasion that happens once a year."

"But the day before everyday is a yesterday," he pointed out. "Yesterdays happen all year long. So you're wrong, it can't be a special occasion."

"Excuse me," broke in the eagle. "Is that your answer?"

"Yes." Amanda grinned. "My answer is, Paul is a big yester."

The eagle clearly didn't know what to say.

I clapped my hands. "Let me try!"

Amanda stepped aside, looking pleased. I knocked once.

"Which weighs more, a kilogram of feathers or a kilogram of gold?" repeated the eagle, a bit flustered.

"Not when they explode," I said.

"Not when they explode?"

"That's my story and I'm sticking to it."

"I'm sorry," the eagle started.

"Now you explode," I said.

"What?" the eagle seemed taken aback.

"Ten," I said, taking out my wand.

"Nine," said Amanda.

"Eight," Paul joined in.

"Wait a second!" cried the eagle. "Let's be reasonable about this, please!"

"Seven," Paul and Amanda chanted together.

"I'll let you in! I promise! Just stop!"

"Six." I kept my face straight.

"NOOOoooooooo!"

"Five."

"Please! Have mercy!"

"Four."

"I'm opening! I'm opening!"

"Five."

"Almost open! In you go! GO!"

"Wait, what?" Paul paused.

"Someone doesn't know how to count," Amanda teased.

"Just seeing if you were paying attention." I grinned.

"Go ahead! The coast is clear! Feel free! Take a cookie on your way out!"

"Four."

"I'M BEGGING YOU!!"

"Three."

"Osmosis."

"Alex!"

"Sorry."

"Two."

"One."

"HELLLLLLPPPPPP MEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeee………..?" the eagle stopped and took a deep breath. "Ahaha, I knew you were just kidding."

"KABOOM," I said menacingly.

The eagle actually shrieked.

We ran away, laughing uncontrollably. I can't believe I'd never had that idea before. All those times I'd answered the eagle's riddles. Who knew the eagle was so hilarious?

"Anyone else find it odd that the Ravenclaws have an eagle?" I asked as we headed down the stairs.

"Very telling," Paul said.

"As telling as the Gryffindors having a Fat Lady," Amanda snickered.

"I wonder what his name is," I mused.

"I doubt he has one."

"Maybe he feels bad for being an eagle, but he can't help the way he was made, and he's secretly regretted it all these years, which is why he harbors such evil thoughts, making him perfect for the job of asking Claws their tricky riddles, a cruel irony that only makes him more depressed. I shall call him Raven, and he shall be my Raven," I announced.

"Yeah, _that's_ not going to remind him of his species," muttered Amanda.

"Now the Ravenclaws have an eagle named Raven," said Paul. "They should be grateful we fixed their identity crisis."

A couple of Claw girls ran into us on their way up the stairs. "Hey, watch it!" one said sharply.

"WE SAVED YOU FROM SELF DOUBT AND SUICIDE!" I hollered up after them. "Ungrateful mussels."

"Ungrateful _what?"_

"Nothing."

"Ungrateful nothing?"

"Yes. Don't look at me like that."

And then we were off to the kitchens. I hadn't had breakfast, after all.

* * *

Author's Note: Hope you weren't too confused. A lot of inside jokes happened there.

So. Usually when I'm writing a story and I can't think of anything to continue the actual plot I do a literary form of doodling, by which I mean I write outtakes. They are all those behind the scene, what could have happened if etc. snippets that sort of supplement the final story. I've got some for this one (I originally promised myself I wasn't going to write any and I would be productive on the actual story instead of spenidng all my time writing outtakes like I usually do...but the mental image of the Marauder's Map showing everyone with a ridiculous screenname was just too good) and I think I'll post them at the end once this story is finished, as a bonus chapter. Special features, you know. What say you?


	6. The Chapter of Cannibalism

Author's Note: this chapter is dedicated to Sandwich Theorem, my new favorite person. So I will be posting those outtakes.

Anyone else wondering what exactly IS the Sandwich Theorem?

* * *

FIRST YEAR

"_And you?" Professor Dumbledore asked Alex. "What about your social interactions?"_

"_Well… Let's say mine aren't anywhere close to yours. I much prefer listening to your stories about the Minister of Magic."_

_They were talking in the corner of the Great Hall, in a corner out of the way in order to hold a decent conversation in the midst of the mad after dinner rush, as every student, finished with the meal, tried to leave at the same time. It was rather chaotic and loud, and Alex had to raise her voice more than she could comfortably in order to be heard. _

_Dumbledore raised his eyebrows above his half moon spectacles. "My dear, surely you have close friends of your own?"_

_It had only been a few days since the start of term, but every shy First Year had at least made one friend by now. Alex might have been a little different than her peers­–aloof and mature, although she couldn't be considered shy in any way–but Dumbledore hadn't expected her to choose loneliness._

_He needn't have worried. Alex was perfectly capable of handling things her way. And her way, of course, was to reach into the crowd of students with both arms and pull out two fellow First Years. _

"_Yea-ah," she drawled out slowly and snottily, looking at him like he was stupid. "I do."_

_The impressive effect was rather ruined when she couldn't help sneaking glances to the sides to see just who she had indiscriminately chosen._

"_So I see," Dumbledore said, amused. He inspected the two confused students, both Gryffindors, that Alex was gripping. On the right was a blond, freckled, lanky boy with robes that were too long on him, staring at Dumbledore in awe from out under his oversized glasses. Dumbledore nodded in silent approval to Alex, who gave him a saucy smile back. _

_Left was a girl with stylishly messy reddish brown hair, and an naturally lazy expression that would have dripped ennui were she not so bewildered at the moment. Of the two, this one seemed the most confident, and Dumbledore expected she would give Alex the most trouble. But, he though as he gave approval again, she was the type who could match wits with Alex._

_Dumbledore excused himself, leaving Alex time to get acquainted with her new friends._

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

I smiled at the memory. Paul and Amanda hadn't turned out so bad, considering I had pulled them out of a crowd more or less at random. With enough of my influence, of course, they'd improved.

Amanda reached up to tickle the pear on the painting that would let us into the kitchens, but before she could enter all the way once the painting was open, she stuck her head back out and said to me, "Guess who's having some tea and crumpets and chatting up a house elf."

Bleh. Oh, well. It didn't matter. I needed food. "Sneak in and grab me something. I'll wait outside," I said. "And make sure the Marauders don't take notice of you."

Amanda nodded, though I didn't much like the devious expression on her face, and pulled Paul in with her. I faintly heard James inside say something like, "hot damn mother pastry!" but I probably didn't hear him correctly. I hope I didn't hear him correctly. It was muffled.

The fruit painting slammed closed. I leaned against the wall to the side, trying not to think about how, now that I was denied entry into the deliciously aromatic kitchens, my hunger had tripled.

At the end of the corridor some Puffs were disappearing into their common room. From a distance they looked small and edible.

That wasn't helping.

Cannibalism isn't the answer.

On the other hand, protein and fiber…

Amanda's hand stuck out of the cracked open painting, saving me from my carnivorous thoughts, dropped a pineapple, and retreated again as the painting slammed shut.

I snatched the pineapple from the air, mentally cursing Amanda for making me do that. Luckily no one was watching. A display of super sharp reflexes would not have advanced my cover character. Inside, Amanda was probably grinning in satisfaction, congratulating herself on having forced that out of me.

How in hell do you eat an unsliced, whole pineapple?

There was nothing I could do. It was too pointy and sharp.

I beat it against the stone wall. This did absolutely nothing. I hammered it harder.

I don't even _like_ pineapple.

Aren't there spells you can use? A command-and-slice sort of thing?

Taking out my wand and holding the pineapple in front of me, I tried to remember anything useful. After running through a laundry-list of spells that were not designed to cut pineapples and thus had no effect, I was stumped.

But then, looking at my pointy wand, the solution seemed obvious.

The painting creaked open and slammed close. I whirled around, caught in the act.

"Were you," Sirius said, coming towards me, "about to stab that pineapple with your wand?" He stopped, looking at me in amusement.

"Nooo," I said quickly, hiding my wand behind my back. "Gosh."

He gave me a quizzical little half smile.

"Could you step aside for a moment?" I asked politely.

He did so unquestioningly.

"Thank you, kind sir." I swept past him, brushed the pear with my fingertips, and was in the kitchens before he could blink.

Inside the bustling kitchens my friends were being served food by a house elf at a table in the corner. The remaining Marauders were gathered around the brick fireplace at the other end of the room, throwing things into the large fire and cheering when the flames turned different colors. Enough activity created by the house elves in the enormous room shielded the two groups from contact with each other, but it wasn't going to last long if Sirius followed me into the room.

I bolted for Paul and Amanda as the painting behind me started to open. A quick charm aimed at the painting made it sticky, and it slammed shut again. It was immediately pounded on from the other side, the painting caving in at every blow, but not giving.

"We need to leave," I hissed, pulling them away. "No time for questions."

Paul tried to protest, but Amanda shushed him, gave me a smug little look, and lead us towards the other end of the room, where there was a secret exit out of the kitchens.

We sprinted for the collection of pots and pans on the far wall. One was large enough that, when swung aside, it revealed a hole large enough to crawl through. I pushed Paul and Amanda in first, as it was imperative they weren't seen in any association with me.

Just in time, too. The assault on the painting grew loud and violent enough to catch attention of the house elves. The Marauders looked up as Amanda disappeared into the tunnel.

Remus saw me. "Hey–" he started to say.

I winked at him and climbed in after Amanda.

The huge copper pan slid into place after me, leaving us in darkness. After a few seconds there was some muffled commotion on the other side in the kitchen. Probably the Marauders trying to get in. They didn't know about this secret tunnel, though. But now that they did, the knowledge was useless unless they figured out how to make the pan open… which wasn't likely, considering the command was a double snap.

We silently crawled up the dark tunnel, eventually emerging from a portrait of the artist as a young man on the second floor, behind a large column.

They looked at me.

I gave them my most innocent expression.

Then I realized that the innocent party was most definitely not me. "Amanda…" I said threatening.

She raised her hands defensively. "Nothing of my devise, I swear."

"It's true," Paul confirmed. "Sirius was leaving on his own. He never noticed us."

I groaned. "That boy has a sixth sense."

"You mean, that scrumptious deliciousness has an uncanny ability to know when you're around, alone, and helpless?" Amanda said deviously. "This is the only time I'm aware of…have there been others…?"

"None I'm aware of, either," I said smoothly. Yes, I can lie quite well, thank you. "Unless…I was asleep…" I gasped in mock alarm.

Amanda fell for it. "Sirius Black, stalker? I do believe he just single handedly reversed the stalker stereotype from creepy to sexy,"

I laughed.

"Please…" Paul pleaded.

"Hey," Amanda defended. "We're allowed to appreciate."

"One word," I said. "Bella."

Paul had nothing to argue.

* * *

_James, Remus, and Peter climbed out of the painting hole to find Sirius in the corridor, holding a pineapple._

_He pounced on them. "You saw her, right? RIGHT?"_

"_Yes, we did," James said. _

_Remus frowned at him. "She winked at me while these two were distracted."_

"_Hey," James argued. "I saw her."_

"_No you didn't."_

"_Did too. I turned around when you said something and I spotted her backside."_

_Sirius raised his eyebrows. _

"_It was a nice backside," James concluded. _

"_Yes it is," Sirius agreed. "Moony, you say she winked at you?"_

"_A definite sassy wink." Remus told him about her escape through the sliding pan and into the tunnel._

"_Didn't know that one existed," James said. "We couldn't open it, though."_

"_Pity," said Sirius._

"_We'll figure it out," James promised._

"_I'm not crazy," Sirius said suddenly. "Nor am I seeing things."_

_Remus nodded._

"_No, mate." James clapped Sirius on the back. "Unfortunately no. It would have explained a lot."_

"_She was… unique," Remus said thoughtfully. "I'm surprised we've never met her before."_

"_How can she possibly hide from us? Hogwarts isn't that big," James said. "We'll look for her."_

"_I HAVE been looking for her," Sirius said, amused. "For the past week, in case you've forgotten."_

"_Yeah, but this time, we believe you." James put his arm around Sirius' shoulder. "Let's take a look at the Map again, and we'll ask around…"_

* * *

I stared in horror. It was too early for this. I really couldn't deal. I had gotten up extra early to see if Dumbledore was back yet, when I had spotted the poster on the Gryffindor notice board in the common room. Really, it's a miracle I saw the poster at all, since it was rather dark. The sun had only just reached the horizon, casting the room in gray dawn.

_Have you seen this person?_ The poster read. _REWARD. Contact James Potter._

And there was a sketch of my face. Messy and inaccurate, but since I knew who it was supposed to be, the resemblance was more than vague.

Tearing it down would be too obvious. Who knew how many others were out there, and taking down this one would signal that I'd been here, in the Gryff common room.

But it would make _such_ a good keepsake.

My first _WANTED_ poster. Awww.

There were ways to sabotage a _WANTED_ poster. A few minutes of tricky wand work, and I'd rearranged some key lines to change the features into something more generic. Now it could be anyone. It also now read _Contact Jones Pickett._

Ten minutes or so spent in the Lair using the Regardiun to visit the other House common rooms established that there indeed was a poster in every one. I had about an hour before the early risers started waking up.

I was in and out of the Puff common room in fifteen minutes. In another five I tore down the one in Sly common room, just to leave a false trail. Then, out of breath from sprinting up the Claw spiral staircase, I came to the eagle.

Before I could knock, the eagle woke up. "YOU!" it screeched.

"Me indeed," I acknowledged. "Ask your riddle."

"Oh, and let you dance around a nonsense answer again?"

"Come on, Raven," I said. "That was just a game. You know me. I've always been completely respectful to your riddles."

"No, you always give odd answers and then argue them until I have to let you in so that my head will stop spinning in circles!"

"True. I'm afraid I'm just not as clever as the Claws. It's the only way I can answer them," I said pitifully.

The eagle eyed me. "I don't trust you. Even when I throw you the easiest riddle, one that a Hufflepuff would know, you never give the proper answer. There was one time I asked how often a dead cactus needs to be watered and you said 'A thimble.'"

"That one was hard!" I protested. "A thimble was the only answer that made sense to me. And, once I explained my logic, you agreed and let me in. I'm not a cookie cutter Claw, I actually have to think about these things. Look, I promise I'll try to answer the next one for real."

It took a while to subdue him, but eventually he asked, "Which way should a rooster be positioned atop a steeple so the eggs fall north?"

"I don't believe in the direction north," I replied.

"See! You promised!"

"Did I get it wrong, then?"

The eagle let out a little scream of frustration and the door opened to let me in. So I did get it right. Points for me!

Ahead, the poster was visible on the Claw bulletin board.

Being examined by one Lucius Malfoy.

* * *

Author's Note: I had a pineapple on my desk as a prop while I was writing this. Man those things are spiky!


	7. The Chapter of Operation Pumpkin Kaboom

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait! Feel free to assassinate me. I was on vacation for a while and didn't get any writing done at all. But today is my sister's birthday, and she's the one who gets me through writer's block (this time it was with a challenge that the chapter would include: explosions, dragons, and the Spanish Inquisition.) Thanks goes to hahasxybitch, Kiariad, and Sandwich Theorem for reviews. Not much Sirius/Alex in this chapter, Kia, but I PROMISE next chapter you will get your fill.

* * *

FOURTH YEAR

"_Do we know what the Marauders are doing this year?" asked Paul, peering around the Gryff common room for signs of suspicious activity. Halloween was tomorrow. _

"_Don't know, don't care," Alex replied, pulling the hood down on her school robes so she could nap in her chair without the bright flickering light of the fire. _

_Amanda paused, lifting her quill from the essay she was writing. "Did I just hear you correctly? You 'don't care' about the prank, which the Marauders have been bragging for weeks is the best Hogwarts has ever seen? The prank, they say, to end all pranks?"_

"_I doubt it'll be phenomenal," Alex said from under the hood, a bit muffled. "They said the same last year, and what was it? Oh yeah, they wrapped all the Gryff guys head to toe in toilet paper while they slept. With an imagination as bad as that, the only way those boys could come up with 'the prank to end all pranks' is if they somehow got their hands on the dragon."_

_Paul and Amanda stared at each other, horrified by the thought of the four adolescent boys gaining access to the dragon that was currently visiting Hogwarts for the N.E.W.T. Care of Magical Creatures class's behavioral research._

_Alex threw her hood off and jumped up. "Oh my god," she said. "We have to stop them."_

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

Lucius turned at the noise, glanced at me, and went back to studying the poster.

…Interesting.

I crossed the room to stand next to him. He didn't move.

Shifting my weight and crossing my arms, I silently considered the poster, waiting for a reaction. We stood side by side for a few moments.

"A good likeness," he said causally. "Flattering."

"Believe me, I'm more than flattered. I'm so flattered I feel a rush of modesty coming on and I simply must do something to turn away this undeserved attention," I said, pulling out my wand and giving the poster the same makeover as the others.

"Lovely trick," he commented.

"Why, thank you. I've been getting a lot of practice lately."

A noise sounded from the girls dormitory.

"Ah, that would be our cue." Lucius slid an arm through mine, leading me back towards the door. If I were anyone else, I could say it made me feel a little giddy, being on the arm of Lucius Malfoy, gentleman and heir to an ancient family fortune. (The only male of our generation who could be described as 'princely.') But I'm Alex Moore, alias Q, and things like this are practically normal. Not everyone is as used to having polite and beautiful arm candy with perfect blond hair as I am. Before you burst out laughing, let me say I am laughing along with you.

"But I didn't get to say goodbye," I mourned, casting my free hand back towards the poster. "Goodbye, my lovely!"

"Come, now. You don't want to get caught," Lucius said as the door opened and we exited onto the stairs.

"And you don't want to, either," I observed. "What were you doing in there, anyway?"

We'd reached the bottom of the staircase. Lucius bowed over my hand and backed away, his manners (as gallant as ever) compromised somewhat by a sly little smile.

"Ah," I said, understanding. Ookay, embarrassing. But, considering that the encounter – which could have been a total disaster – had gone neatly and without fuss, I could forgive myself. And promptly did.

It was a couple hours before my friends woke up and joined me in the Lair. I figured I should probably lay low for a bit, considering recent events. My face had been recognized too much lately for my taste, and, especially now with the wanted posters, trouble could ensue if I didn't keep myself out of public view for a while.

This was what I told Paul and Amanda, once they appeared, and urged them to go out and enjoy what was left of their weekend. They did so without reluctance. And they call themselves my friends! Humph.

I continued to lay low for the next few weeks, staying occupied with making sure my schoolwork remained at levels undeniably average (too easy), keeping an eye out for Dumbledore to return (he didn't), and doubling the efforts of Q (fun fun). If Hogwarts noticed that Q's attacks had increased in intensity, it wasn't made apparent. Between the three activities I managed to keep myself busy and out of sight.

The Marauders definitely didn't make it any easier. They never discovered that the posters had been sabotaged, probably because they still looked the same from a distance and they quickly got covered up with other notices since space on the bulletin boards was coveted. They did notice, however, my red herring of the missing Slytherin poster, and wasted a week on that false trail by investigating every single Sly girl. But once they'd given up on that route, their inquiries had been going around the school long enough for everyone to know that Sirius Black and Co. was looking for someone.

They didn't keep the advantage for long. I sent Paul and Amanda out to spread rumors that Sirius was indeed looking for a new girl _– and anyone might apply for the position_. A sort of list went around the school of what king of girl Sirius wanted: particularly, a forward, outgoing, brunette. Within a week, half of Hogwarts' population of girls had charmed their hair brown and Sirius was accosted in the corridors at all hours by girls who thought that previous rejections were because they hadn't been aggressive enough.

A thoroughly bombarded and over-kissed Sirius admitted defeat sometime mid-October, finally asking someone to the first Hogsmeade (and making a big public show of it) in order to stop the 24/7 battery of female flesh.

At our secret celebration feast, Paul pointed out how unbelievably long Sirius had lasted.

"True," said Amanda thoughtfully. "The old Sirius would have soaked up the attention like the playboy he is. But the post-Alex Sirius… let's just say how enjoyable it was to watch him drop everything and run." Indeed, Sirius' mad dashes had become semi-famous.

"A toast," I offered. "To Sirius Black, for finally giving up the search. You were a formidable opponent."

"A formidable opponent!" cheered Paul and Amanda as we clinked glasses of butterbeer.

Now that the Sirius threat was over, we had new, pressing matters to occupy our minds. Such as Halloween and the first trip to Hogsmeade. Halloween was the only day Q was famous for letting things slide. Anything that went down on Halloween traditionally was forgiven by Q. It was an immunity some at Hogwarts counted on – like the Marauders, who also traditionally planned a big prank every year. The spooking, egging, and practical jokes that went on during Halloween were always ignored, but any who tried to do the same the day before took the risk of calling Q's attention.

Halloween was always my favorite day of the year. I mean, spending the day cavorting about Hogsmeade in costumes, pulling pranks on unsuspecting strangers, and then coming back to Hogwarts for a fantastic feast? Couldn't get any better.

With much debate, we finally settled on our costumes for Halloween.

"You always had a thing for red," muttered Amanda darkly, who was still sore that we had turned down her zombie idea so quickly. Amanda happened to have a thing for zombies.

"I look good in red." I shrugged. Honestly, what did she expect of me? No way in hell would I ever costume myself as a zombie. Vampire, maybe. Mummy, definitely yes. But zombies are well known for having their _limbs_ fall off on a regular basis… and wizard Halloween costumes are, of course, uncannily realistic. I was not signing up for anything that required my arm to be detachable. I like my arm. I named it Steve. I could never part from Steve. He trusted me.

Halloween morning I woke in a state of anticipation, in case the Marauders' prank had taken place during the night, like last year when they trapped thousands of bats in the Gryffindor House rooms and I had awoken to the interesting sight of a black ceiling, the stone completely covered up as bats had grasped onto the rough surface. Not so interesting had been the bat that flew into my face and got trapped in my hair for a few seconds. The year before that, the Marauders had kept everyone in anticipation all day long the giant pumpkins at the feast exploded, showering the Great Hall with slimy pumpkin guts. I'd smelled like pumpkin for weeks. _That_ had been a spectacular explosion.

The room seemed prank free, for the moment. Hogsmeade, here we come.

* * *

"_Think they've figured it out yet?" asked Remus, watching two boys descend the dormitory stairs into the common room. One briefly paused in conversation to brush something off his left shoulder. _

"_Nah." Sirius put his feet up on the opposite couch and placed his arms behind his head, lounging ostentatiously. "Too early. They'll think it's bad luck the first time it happens."_

"_Hey James!" Someone shouted across the common room. "What's the prank?"_

"_Yeah, tell us!"_

_James flashed them a grin, not pausing from his important task of coloring his fingernails black with a quill and pot of ink he'd found left out on the table._

"_All done," he declared, finishing. He held up his hand for Sirius to admire. _

"_You're sick in the head," Sirius informed James. Peter snorted. _

"_You're jealous," he defended. "Evans, what do you think?" he asked the passing girl, flourishing his hand._

"_I think you're sick in the head, Potter," she responded immediately, not even looking at him as she swept by._

"_Ouch," said Remus, as James faked looking offended. _

"_Your mean words are hurtful to me!" James shouted at Lily's back. _

"_Sticks and stones," she shot back._

_James watched her for a moment before sighing. He grabbed his wand, gave it a tiny flick, and replaced it in his pocket. Lily continued on her way untroubled._

"_What'd you do that for?" complained Peter. "She was about to walk into one!"_

"_Yeah, mate, why? Think: you would have seen Lily Evans flustered, for once," said Sirius._

"_Why, James?" Remus looked at him pointedly. "Were you actually thinking of something other than your life's mission to embarrass Lily?"_

"_Do you love her?" taunted Peter. _

"_Dammit, guys!" James threw down the feathered quill he'd been twiddling. "I was just trying to be nice. I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition!"_

_Quite suddenly three red robed people jumped out in front of the Marauders. "NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!" they cackled thunderously, and then were gone just as quickly and mysterious as they had appeared. _

_Sirius blinked. _

"_Damn Halloween," grumbled James. "Stupid people in stupid costumes."_

_Sirius raised his eyebrows at James, who was currently attired as witch, a costume that mainly consisted of a wild long-haired wig._

_James met Sirius' look but didn't say anything._

"_So, your first Quidditch game is in a few weeks…," said Remus diplomatically._

* * *

FOURTH YEAR

"_Three…two….one…" Alex chanted under her breath, watching the giant pumpkins restlessly. Around her, the chatter of students excited after a day at Hogsmeade filled the Great Hall._

_The pumpkins rumbled. A few people turned to stare at them. They rumbled again, louder. The room grew quiet as everyone slowly noticed the disturbance. Another rumble. Someone dropped a fork and it clattered on the ground. _

_And then, the pumpkins exploded with a roar and Alex's world was orange and white._

_Stunned silence met her ears once she could hear again. As she raised her arms to make the accurate observation that she was absolutely covered in slimy orange goo, the shrieks started and the Great Hall was thrown into uproar._

"_Best…prank…ever!" The Gryff next to her shouted to a friend, trying to be heard over the chaos._

"_My hair!" she wailed back._

_At one end of the Gryff table, a group of girls picked up a chant. "James! James! James!" they cheered._

_Alex sneaked a glance at James, who was looking shocked, covered in orange slime. Not to be outdone, and always one to seize the moment, Sirius led the Gryffs around him into his own cheer of "Sir-ius! Sir-ius!"_

_Alex smiled to herself. She hadn't underestimated his arrogance on bit. Which was why she'd organized Operation Pumpkin Kaboom to apologize for breaking tradition and interfering directly with their original dragon prank. She'd foreseen, correctly, no problems in getting them take full credit for her genius._

* * *

Author's Note: Something as amazing and magical as the Sandwich Theorem should not be known to mortals. But I'm guessing it has to do with velociraptors.

And, I didn't give many hints about this years prank, but what do you guys think it is?


	8. The Chapter of the Dance of the Cobweb

Author's Note: just a little recognition to my reviewers nsisdazl, laplam, hahasxybitch, and Queen of the Plastic Spoons. And everyone should thank nsisdazl for this chapter being what it is. Love her if you love it. Hate her if you hate it.

The velociraptors are back in black...

* * *

After breakfast in the Great Hall we joined the line waiting to have Filch check off names.

"Damn," Amanda grumbled, using the red sleeve of her robes to wipe something invisible off her face. "I've been walking into spiderwebs all morning."

I jumped back. "_What_ did you just say?"

She paused, realizing just exactly what she'd said.

I froze, panicking.

Luckily, Paul came to the rescue. He circled me slowly, waving his arms in front of him. "Breathe, Alex," he said. "You're okay. The perimeter is clear."

Thank god. I shuddered. "I _hate_ —" I couldn't bring myself to say the word, but my friends knew what I was talking about.

Paul nodded sympathetically. "Easy," he soothed.

Amanda tried to put a hand on my shoulder to calm my shaking but I couldn't bear to let her touch me with her creepy cobwebby hands. Just moments before they had _been in close contact_ with a spiderweb! _What if the sticky residue still clung to her fingers? _Oh no, I was panicking again…

She looked confused when I leaped back again until Paul motioned her to wipe her hands off on her robes.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I eyed her fingers. They looked clean, but then, that was part of the perfect deception of a spiderweb. You couldn't see it until it was too late…

"Silent killers," I said suddenly.

"What?" Amanda looked at me strangely.

Filch signed us out and we set off down the path to Hogmeade.

"Sp— I mean, spid—, er, cobw— um… _They…_ are silent killers. You can't see them until it's too late," I explained.

"You do know that spiderwebs aren't actually deadly," Paul said slowly. "Sure, the spiders that made them could be poisonous, but your phobia isn't spiders, it's the actual spiderwebs. Which are harmless."

"I do not have a _phobia," _I spat out. "I _hate_ them. It's different. I'm not scared of _anything."_

"Yes, you are," pointed out Amanda. "Velociraptors. The only things in the world you are afraid of are velociraptors and spiderwebs."

"Have you ever _seen_ a velociraptor? They are scary. AND deadly." I said as if that explained everything. "Sp— spi— damn, I can't even say the word — are not scary OR deadly. I just hate them. It is NOT a phobia."

"You can't even say the word? Sounds like a phobia to me—" Amanda said smugly.

"Shut up."

"Why don't you call them something else, then?" Paul suggested kindly. I knew he was the nice one. I shot Amanda a reproving look. "Give them a codename."

"What a good idea, _Paul_, my _best_ friend…"

Once we'd reached Hogsmeade, raided Honeydukes, and had a round at the Three Broomsticks, we were ready to get our scare on. Amanda wanted to check out the Halloween specials at Zonko's, but considering every student had probably visited Zonko's by now, I refused. Cheap store-bought tricks could have their advantages in surprise, but since there no longer remained a student at Hogwarts who was not personally familiar with Zonko's entire inventory, surprise was not something we could count on.

Paul was silent, drumming his fingers on the table.

"Yes, Paul?" I asked.

He looked around. "Nothing. I just assumed that, since you refused Amanda's, you had an idea."

"Well, I don't," I said crossly.

"In that case, we could pretend to be statues like we did in Third Year, and then when someone walks by—"

"Wait, I do!" I interrupted. "The Shrieking Shack."

"What about it?" Amanda asked.

"It's been awfully silent lately."

Paul snorted. "Of course. It's not full moon—"

"Let's make it shriek."

Paul stopped. Amanda grinned. Paul tried to protest. Clearly he's never had a good shriek.

* * *

_Sirius was standing in the middle of the High Street pretending to be a statue when the shrieking began. _

_James, wearing a monster mask, jumped out of some bushes, accidentally scaring two passing Hogsmeaders. (Originally he'd been planning to scare them anyway.) "Do you hear—"_

_Peter and Remus joined them. "Is that…?" Peter chattered nervously._

_Remus frowned. "But I'm here. Right?" He patted himself down as if making sure. James patted him a few times too, but withdrew his hand when they started getting some odd looks._

_Sirius finally voiced what they were all thinking. "What the hell!?"_

* * *

"Well, look who's coming," Amanda drawled from her look out position. She continued peering out between two slats on the boarded up window.

I let out a last shriek for good measure.

Paul joined her. "Ah. The only guys in the world who would run _towards_ instead of _away from_ the Shack once it started to shriek."

This was my cue to identify them out loud. "Alright, people," I said. "Pack it up. Here come the party police."

* * *

_Remus cupped his hands around the slot so he could see better inside the dark shack. "Empty."_

_James kicked absently at the nailed shut door. He knew as well as the rest that there was no way inside the Shack except the Whomping Willow entrance. _

"_Not quite," said Sirius. The others climbed over to him and he stepped aside from the hole so they could see what he was referring to._

_Inside, perfectly highlighted in a ray of light from the window was a note resting on the floor. The only thing on the small note was a Q._

_They all drew back, as if the tiny scrap of paper held great power. _

"_Shit," James exclaimed. _

_No one spoke for a few moments. They were trying to figure out just what exactly the note signified and how much trouble they were in._

"_Does this mean—" started Peter. _

"_It could," said Sirius solemnly. _

_Remus turned pale. _

"_If Q knows about Remus… If he knows about us…" Peter kept going. _

"_Peter. Not helping," James hissed. _

_Remus looked ill. "I need to go pack. I'll tell Dumbledore—"_

"_Don't be melodramatic," snapped Sirius. "You aren't going anywhere. We will figure this out and we will fix it."_

"_Padfoot's right," James agreed. "That," he gestured toward the note, "might not even mean what we think it means. We could be jumping to conclusions."_

"_Or we could be perfectly correct," muttered Peter. When James and Sirius glared at him he said, "What? There is no mistaking that for anything but what it is. A threat."_

_Suddenly Sirius grinned wickedly. "A threat? Q's playing dirty. He's finally sullied his little angel hands. And he's going to regret it. No one plays dirty like the Marauders…"_

"_You mean…" James started to smile too. "Blackmail."_

"_Gentlemen," Sirius addressed his mates. "Perhaps we've allowed Q to keep his identity hidden too long…"_

"_And what would he pay for some extra time?" James grinned. _

"_Oh," Remus finally said. "You're talking leverage."_

* * *

I finished the Dance of the Cobweb with a final shake. Ack, ack, ack, ACK. It had been all over me! ALL OVER ME. With no one to help. Not that they couldn't have prevented the automatic triggering of the Dance. At least it meant that no one had been around to notice. Once I'd walked into a spiderweb in the middle of Diagon Alley. Everyone, EVERYONE, had been staring at me when the Dance was finished. Hundreds of people! Okay, maybe not hundreds, but at least dozens. I'd never felt so exposed in my life. Some of them had even been Hogwarts students! My character of nameless, average, ordinary, _invisible_, student at Hogwarts would not survive anymore of that kind of strain. That was probably the closest I've ever been to experiencing embarrassment…which is what Amanda tells me, at least, though all I felt was horror at the thought of my cover being blown.

That is why I hate spiderwebs. The faintest touch of one sends me into the Dance. I have perfect full control of my emotions and body language at all time, enabling me to pull off any role or deception, except during the Dance. I can beat a lie detector but I can not prevent the Dance. It's positively shameful. My parents should disinherit me. (Except they somehow find it _charming_ and _adorable_ — ha — they were the ones to entitle it the Dance of the Cobweb in the first place.) If I were them and I had a daughter who could easily blow a mission because she happened to walk into a spiderweb at the wrong moment I would maroon said daughter on a deserted island.

Not that I would mind being marooned so much. I've always wanted to be marooned. And I've heard you get to take one thing with you. Mmm… marooned on a deserted island alone with Sirius Black…

Lucius was suddenly walking beside me.

"No need to feel embarrassed," he said.

I glanced at him. "I'm not. Why? Are you?"

"No. I'm talking about the Halloween prank that Black and Potter came up with."

"Oh. You mean you saw me walk into that velociraptor back there?"

That definitely made Lucius pause. "What?"

"Black and Potter put velociraptors everywhere. They even replenish somehow. I've been walking into them ever since we got back from Hogsmeade. I suppose they find it an amusing prank. I saw this one Puff try to avoid the velociraptors by—"

"Er… velociraptors?"

Was he still caught on the codename? I never figured Lucius Malfoy to be slow.

* * *

Sirius had drawn the short straw and had been sent down to refill the entrance hall with spiderwebs before the dinner rush. By now it seemed that the prank had been figured out… but it was just as amusing as ever, because now no one went anywhere without their wand in front of them, waving it from side to side. Fights had actually broken out in the Gryff common room because of a new tendency to walk directly behind a person in front, which created long lines of students that snaked from room to room. Sirius had even seen a Puff bravely traveling the corridors by flinging each foot up to eye level whenever he took a step.

After his labor, Sirius emerged from the kitchens with a before-dinner snack from the nice house elves. But when he rounded the corner back up in the entrance hall, he had to pause. Someone was there already.

It was The Girl.

Sirius hadn't seen her for weeks, and suspected that useless search had scared her off. Without realizing it, he broke into a grin so wide it was almost maniacal and started off toward her.

She had been making her way to the staircase when she suddenly stopped. Unconsciously, Sirius stopped too.

And then she started _dancing_…. No, it wasn't dancing. Her twisted convulsions and outward flung limbs could in no way be called a dance. It was the oddest thing Sirius had ever seen. (And considering all the things he'd seen…) But it was over almost as soon as it started. She shuddered violently one last time and started forward again.

Sirius gaped, trying to figure out what had just happened. Perhaps some sort of spasm…? But spasms didn't cause one to jump up in the air in grotesque paroxysms of the entire body.

"Not a spasm," said the vile Lucius Malfoy in Sirius' ear.

Sirius narrowed his eyes in contempt toward Malfoy.

"It's called…" Malfoy leaned in close. Recognizing the devious tone, Sirius grasped for his wand, but it was too late. Malfoy's wand was already in action.

The body binding curse paralyzed Sirius immediately, almost cruelly leaving him standing upright, as if it really was still possible to punch Malfoy in the face. And kick in his knees. And karate chop him across the hall.

"…_Dance of the Cobweb,_" finished Malfoy.

Helpless, Sirius was forced to watch as Malfoy ran a hand through his perfect hair (not that Sirius thought of it as perfect, he was just seethingly aware of Malfoy's attempts to make apparent his intention to appear attractive) and made his way toward The Girl.

Malfoy fell in step beside her, and from the companionable glance she spared him, it was obvious they knew each other.

It would take Sirius a only few minutes to break the curse, with every quark and lepton in his body straining against the paralysis in furious passion. It was a record breaking action, considering Sirius' age and limited experience.

Lucius Malfoy wasn't one to waste energy on curses involving boils or extra slimy appendages. As always, he was fast, silent, and professional… and able to, as always, hit where it hurt the most. Sirius had never loathed the smooth Seventh Year more.

Of course, Sirius didn't know that Alex treated _everyone_ companionably. It wasn't like they were strangers, after all. She knew their deepest, darkest secrets already.

* * *

Author's Note: ahahaha, Alex is so ridiculous!

P.S. You may have noticed that the chapters now have names! Like Vladmir and Jorge.


	9. The Chapter of Mafia Conspiracies

Author's Note: Okay, so I'm really excited about this chapter. You'll see. Hush about it being late. There's a reason for that. The reason has something to do with me being 15 hours away from moving into my new shiny college dorm!

Shout out to GoodGirlzDead, aussie-chick114, hahasxybitch, breakingdawn08208, Q'Spoon, and, of course, nsisdazl for the reviews.

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

"Okay, I've got it," James declared. "Lucius Malfoy."

"What!" Sirius exclaimed. "Blasphemy! I am disappointed in you. I shall never speak to you again."

"Dimitri Firezing? Elijah Bones? Amos Diggory?" Remus suggested.

Peter scribbled the names down on the parchment entitled "Top Suspects," which contained an ongoing list of those the Marauders believed could possibly be the elusive Q. They kept the Top Suspect list inside the Top Secret shoebox. The Marauders were not very original.

"Amos Diggory," Sirius repeated thoughtfully. "Now there's a righteous fool. The profile fits. Perhaps…. But if he were Q, don't you think he'd be shouting it from the rooftop? Collecting autographs and adoring fans? Basking in the glory? That Hufflepuff doesn't have a modest bone in his body."

"Yes, I can see it now… Amos Diggory, hero of the people, silhouetted against the clouds, surveying the city, as his cape billows behind him in the breeze… zoom in on his face, where the beloved champion watches his citizens with a caring eye," said James, and made a zoom box with his hands over one of his own eyes, exaggerating a wink, much to his friends' entertainment.

"Just one caring eye?" Sirius pointed out, amused. "You mean to say, he only has one eye? Or only one that is caring? Then what would the other be?"

"The other…" James continued in an Important Voice. "The other is _scaring."_

This conclusion earned him some laughter and applause from his friends, Peter actually giggling and trying to clap with the quill still in his hand, almost impaling himself.

Sirius said teasingly, "I have to admit I liked it better when he only had one eye… possibly an eyepatch… and a wooden leg…"

"You just turned Diggory into a pirate!" James was horrified. "Take it back!"

"Dead men tell no tales." Sirius smirked.

James considered it silently, then grinned.

They high-fived.

Remus was bewildered. "What just happened here?"

Sirius explained the obvious. "We agreed to off Amos Diggory."

Remus groaned. "Please… no offing…" This was a common utterance of Remus'.

"Under the Pirate Code, section sixty-seven, use of the Sacred Phrase binds the speaker under contract to provide an offing for the amusement of the crew," Sirius stated.

"See?" said James, pleased. "_Someone_ must be offed."

"Fine," Remus conceded. "Off me. Off Peter."

Three sets of eyes turned to Peter, whose wide grin was immediately replaced by a slightly panicky expression.

"I wish!" James grumbled. "But an offing of Peter would draw Q faster than girls to a dateless Sirius."

Sirius jumped up. "Ye Gods!"

"Easy, Padfoot," said James reassuringly. "They can't find you here."

"No, no, no." Sirius shook his head. "That's _exactly_ what we want!"

"You _want_ to go through that madness again—" James started.

But Remus understood Sirius perfectly. And he was able to convey to James, rather more eloquently than Sirius' attempt, that a brilliant plan lay behind his first key words of "an offing of Peter would draw Q faster than…"

The failed Top Suspects list was tossed aside. The Marauders were once again on the prowl, with their new shiny brilliant plan. Peter reluctantly prepared himself to be offed. The first necessity he thought of: bubblewrap.

* * *

Crossing a courtyard after a particularly interesting session of Charms class, in which we practiced the Cheering Charm and some Gryff's malfunctioning spell had sent Professor Flitwick into mad girly giggles every time someone said his name, Paul and I were involved in a heated discussion on the subject of hermeneutics. This being said, I might also point out that we were not actually debating the nuances of interpretive philosophy, but instead saying the word "hermeneutics" in varying accents. Paul was trying repeat my Uzbeki version in (his own twist) pig latin when I became aware that our progress as soon to be halted.

A moderate crowd had gathered around something, and the students usually loitering lazily between classes in the sunny courtyard were now pressed together cheering fervently. In a few moments the cheering grew silent, and everyone waiting in suspense, attention still on whatever was going on in the middle. A loud _pop _sounded, and the cheering started up again.

Paul eyed me. I nodded the go ahead and he started pushing his way through the crowd. I retreated to a stone bench and climbed atop it, then had to immediately duck back down to avoid being seen.

The Marauders were in the middle of archery practice. Sirius and James took turns with bows cobbled together with string and branches, basking in the attention and making a show of drawing out their aims before releasing the crude twig arrows.

Their target? A trembling bubblewrapped Peter.

I'd barely had time to process that fact, however, before the fourth Marauder had caused me to suddenly drop down. Remus, pretending to applaud his friends, was actually scrutinizing the crowd around them.

The crowd quieted again, and I couldn't help straightening back up, hoping that Remus' attention was elsewhere. It was, luckily; he was studying someone else with his back to me.

Watched by the silent crowd, Sirius drew back and aimed carefully, squinting one eye piratically and glancing down the length of the arrow towards Peter. He released with a twang, and the arrow wobbled unsteadily through the air towards Peter. It smacked into his chest, making the bubblewrap _pop_ loudly before the arrow bounced onto the ground at Peter's feet.

Amidst the cheers at Sirius' success (which he raised his arms in the the air to acknowledge, before flourishing a bow, much to the pleasure of his faithful fans) I could see Peter wincing in suppressed pain. While the arrow was not accurate or fast, it had forced its way to the target purely by the sheer strength Sirius had packed into the string. Definitely enough power to bruise.

"I'm here all week," proclaimed Sirius unoriginally between bows.

Paul emerged from the crowd, heading towards me, an disgusted expression on his face. I jumped down to meet him and we left, the pleading of dozens of "Come on, Sirius, let us have a go!" fading into the distance.

* * *

Later, at night, we were in the Lair, waiting for the last of the Gryffs to fall asleep so we could put our plan in action.

Amanda was giggling nonstop (a side effect of the earlier Cheering Charm?) in anticipation. Clearly the prank I'd come up with was of her favorite sort. As she kept repeating.

"...LOVE it..." (giggle) "...best fucking idea ever..." (giggle) "...damn brilliant..." (giggle snort giggle).

She stopped suddenly, eyes narrowing at me. "Wait... you aren't using MINE, are you? Because that stuff's expensive, and I'm not sacrificing—"

"No, no," I assured her. "Believe it or not, I have my own supply of Unremovable Make-up.

Yes. Unremovable Make-up. The _real_ reason women loved being witches. Weatherproof, tear-proof, smudge-proof, _everything-_proof until removed using the companion product Unremovable Make-up Remover. It could stay on for weeks. The profit on that stuff had made its inventor, Horatio Viggs, _extremely _wealthy. He was seventh on the list, if I was remembering the magazine correctly. (Silly question, of course I was.)

James, Sirius, and Remus were about to personally enjoy the experience of a product that was actually perfectly advertised, for once. Being guys, of course, it was unlikely they knew of it before. I had taken the extra caution of "borrowing" all the Remover in the personal collections of the girls at Hogwarts (not a very hard task, few could afford the expensive make-up) just in case.

To make it even better, Paul (who would have thought?) had suggested the perfect finishing touches: James would be the only one to wear lipstick, a bright red color that would be also be found on Sirius' lips and the corners of his mouth, slightly smeared as if after an enthusiastic make-out session.

Just _thinking_ about it made me want to giggle. How fantastic was it going to be in real life?

So fantastic you could hear the caps. As in, FANTASTIC. That's how fantastic.

Why yes, I'm a genius with words. A veritable wordsmith, in fact.

Okay, I should stop now.

But it will be SO AWESOME. SO FREAKIN AWESOME.

I'm stopping for real now, I promise.

AHAHA I'm so excited.

"Please stop bouncing," Amanda commanded. "It's going to make me giggle again."

I obeyed. Is it just me or has there been an abnormal amount of giggling today? It's a conspiracy. And it stinks of the Mafia.

Paul appeared suddenly, returning from the Regardiun, where he had been completing surveillance. "All clear," he announced.

Before you wonder, my secret teacup was still safe. Paul had been forced to stay in his bed until he was sure everyone else was asleep before sneaking away to the Lair and maintaining surveillance on the common room.

Amanda and I grinned at each other and slipped out of the Lair, pausing on the way as I grabbed a prepared satchel of the supplies we'd need. For obvious reasons this mission was ours alone. Paul just didn't have the required expertise.

On our way up the Gryff boys' dormitory stairs it was hard to suppress giggles. Damn Mafia. I had to preform a silencing charm.

We crept into the shadowy room, greeted by snores. Amanda paused, then strode confidently forward. I had to grab her back. Lesson: a silencing charm muffles noise, but one must not fall to the temptation of believing invincibility. Fast movement can just as well give one away.

I handed Amanda her tools, and made my way over to Remus. Deft wand movement applied the make-up softly to his face and I was soon finished. Glancing over, I saw that Amanda had used the same technique to beautify James. Both sleeping boys now sported white faces, rosy pink cheeks, glittery sparkly eye shadow, and eyelash enhancing mascara. For a final touch, I gave Remus a beauty mark. I knew he'd appreciate it. He'd always been lacking, probably much to his shame as a young child.

Amanda was starting on Sirius. I watched as she worked swiftly and expertly, pausing once to mouth at me that she wished she could curl his hair. She had trouble with the lipstick, though. It wouldn't go on in the effect we wanted. After struggling with it for sometime, putting it on, Removing it, and trying it again more softly, she gave up. She gestured to me to do it, but I couldn't get it right either. We both looked up at each other in frustration.

Amanda's eyes lit up.

I had a sneaky suspicion I wouldn't like her idea.

She pointed to her lips and smacked them together, then gave the lipstick back to me, grinning madly.

No. Freakin. Way.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

I take it back, I LOVED the idea.

A glance at the sleeping Sirius showed that the conditions were less than ideal, with his face painted up like a cheap prostitute. Somehow that mental image made what I was about to do even better.

I was returning her mad grin when I applied the lipstick to my own lips. Amanda reached cross and dabbed some Remover over the lipstick so it would smear off easily.

I leaned over closer to Sirius, one hand bracing myself against the headboard. He sighed in his sleep and his lips parted slightly. I shot Amanda a quick look. Her expression was unreadable, though she watched me closely, lightly holding her breath.

I choose to take that to mean she was nervous in case Sirius woke up.

Looking back down, I studied his face again. He smelled so damn... masculine. It made my breath catch and I briefly regretted not including a jasmine perfume in the make-over. Or something else gaggingly flowery and feminine. Not only would it have beautifully finished the prank, but I wouldn't be feeling so terribly uncomfortable and wonderfully at ease at the same time. Gah.

Steeling myself, I drew closer.

* * *

Author's Note: mmm... suspense...

I know, you're like, WELL WILL SHE KISS HIM? AND WILL IT BE MAGICAL?

But I can't tell you. That would be cheating.


	10. The Chapter of Unmentionables

Author's note: this chapter is dedicated to my Partner In Crime, in commemoration of the Gazebo-Traffic Cone-Grappling Hook Incident. Happy birthday, I love you, all that jazz. Note bene: Always remember, or you _will_ forget.

Love to the reviewers: dreamin'BIG, Q'Spoon, Totally CRAZY, GoodGirlzDead, breakingdawn, WaveMasterYami, just, nsisdazl, Frodo'sPen, and WhatsMyNomeDePLume. Sorry this took so long, guys! You are all so nice...don't kill me plz?

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

I was literally inches away when it happened. Okay, I exaggerate. Maybe half a foot. Whatever. The point is, IT HAPPENED.

No, I did not get to 'plant the evidence' on Sirius. This was because of THE THING THAT HAPPENED NEXT. (Sounds like a horror movie. (Subtitle: From the Black Lagoon.))

So, the horror that went down took the form of a loud noise. A loud ringing noise, in fact, much like an alarm. As it turned out to be. But I wouldn't figure out what or why until later.

At the moment, as shocked as I was about the ringing in my ears, I was even more shocked when it woke up Sirius.

Who, thank god, groaned, rolled over, and immediately went back to sleep.

Just enough time for me to grab Amanda and pull her down to the floor next to me. As we were ducking underneath his bed Sirius sat up suddenly. He must have recalled what the alarm meant.

He had, as I learned later (in the safety of the Lair, using the Regardiun), realized that this wasn't the morning wake up alarm he could ignore. No. No, indeed. It was a special alarm, one set up by Remus as a precaution. It was a TRAP.

T.R.A.P. stands for the Marauders' Thoroughly Ridiculous Attempt at Perfidy. I mean, I take care of them. I protect them. I serve them. And how do they repay me? Trying to TRAP me! Can you imagine.

Hm. Well, maybe most of the above statements aren't particularly true for the Marauders. But still. They should be grateful that my small retributions keep them from getting in real trouble with the authorities. And the authorities carry _weapons. _Everyoneknows weapons are dangerous and lethal. See, I prevent lethal action!

I'm so unappreciated.

"Prongs?" Sirius gasped in horror, presumably catching sight of James.

"_Padfoot?"_ was James equally horrified reply.

I guess they had woken up. I couldn't really see anything except Sirius' sock-suited feet as he climbed out of bed. I took a moment to admire the socks. They had trains and fire trucks on them. Life lesson: one is never too old to appreciate a patterned sock. But I digress.

There were similar noises of shock throughout the room as the occupants arose. That incriminating alarm had finally shut off.

Amanda and I looked at each other, trying not to squirm too much in our squished position.

"_You fell asleep?"_ shouted James. "It was your watch!"

The socks left my view quite suddenly. From the loud thump (and several rather undignified squeals and shrieks) that sounded above us, it seemed their owner had fallen victim to the severe condition of flyingleaptackleglomp, and was now, to put it in medical terms, getting the shit punched out of him by James.

I took the opportunity in the confusion to lead Amanda out from under James' bed to the next one. It was still dark in the room, so no one noticed us invisibly crawling through the shadows. We paused under the next bed, and continued on when it was safe.

We played that leapfrog from bed to bed all the way out of the room. The last thing I heard as I ducked out the open door (always leave the door open when you are doing recon while the enemy is still in the room; that way your escape will go more smoothly) was James hollering at Sirius while beating him with a pillow.

The only question on my mind: Kinky pillow fights in the boys' dormitory? Is this a common occurrence?

It wasn't hard for Paul to figure out that something was wrong when we rejoined him in the Lair.

"What happened?" he asked immediately.

Amanda was still in shock. "I don't really know—"

"We were set up," I interrupted.

"Set up?" Paul exclaimed. "Explain, please!"

"The Marauders were trying to catch Q."

He looked confused so I went into full detail… how obvious it now was that the stunt they pulled earlier with Peter was supposed to provoke Q… then they had made plans to catch Q in the act… and if it weren't for luck, or Sirius' reliable unreliability, we would currently be at the mercy of the Marauders, the secret of Q revealed for the world to see…

But why? Why would they do that, now of all times? It didn't make any sense.

"Oh goodness," said Amanda suddenly. "On Halloween…they took it as a challenge!"

"What!?" I exclaimed. "Are they idiots?"

"Yes," Paul said helpfully.

"This could be bad," I admitted.

We were all silent for a bit. If the Marauders were serious about coming after Q it would only be a matter of time before the secret was out.

"We knew it would happen eventually," said Paul quietly.

"Yes." I fingered a bowl of Regardiun, then looked up at their sad faces. "But some time in the distant future when we have plans. When we are prepared." Slapping my hand down on the table, I said determinately, "Yes, eventually the secret will come out, but on our own terms. And it's not ready to come out just yet."

Amanda snorted. "And how do you propose to avoid this mess, then?"

"Um…"

Paul sat down on the floor suddenly. "Despair…." he groaned. "We're doomed…! I'm too beautiful to die!"

I thought furiously.

"Alex—" Amanda started.

"Hush!" I demanded. "This is my thinking face."

Amanda rolled her eyes. Ah, typical Amanda.

OH MY GOD. I slapped myself.

"Umm…Alex?" Paul voiced his concern.

I grabbed Amanda. "Do I still have life in my eyes? Have I been taken over by aliens? Quick! Ask me something only I would know!"

"Uh…Have you been taken over by aliens?"

"No. Oh thank goodness! I thought I'd lost me." I sighed in relief.

Amanda stared at me in bewilderment.

"That was a close one. Okay, seriously guys. What is with this moping? We aren't the only ones with secrets, and it's time to remind them of that fact."

Paul and Amanda glanced at each other.

"You know… the classic fight fire with fire?" I graciously clarified for them.

"Classic fight fire with fire," repeated Paul dubiously.

"Well... maybe I'm using the term 'classic' a smidge bit liberally in this case," I was forced to admit. "Classic implies a certain elegant simplicity. This is more…convoluted. And not as elegant? Don't get me wrong, I love elegance, pearls and evening gloves ftw—"

"Ahem," Paul cut off my babble.

"So, if I understand you, we have to blackmail them into not blackmailing us because they think we are blackmailing them?" Amanda looked skeptical right down to her knees.

"Yes. It's twisted."

* * *

The Marauders were late to breakfast. The Great Hall had filled up with students and was mow amplifying the sounds of laughing and clashing silverware.

I kept an eye on the door for them while partaking in the eating and conversation with Paul and Amanda.

"Could you be any more obvious?" Amanda finally burst out. "Just relax and stop looking like that door is going to disappear if you don't keep glancing at it!"

"I'm just nervous," I said sheepishly. "I would feel a lot better if we had checked in on them this morning."

Amanda snorted. "Last night was rough. We deserved to sleep in."

A loud giggle echoed throughout the hall.

We all froze in horror, then turned slowly to see…James and Sirius posed in the doorway, wearing wigs and pleated skirts, their faces still all done up. I noticed blankly that Sirius had put on some bright red lipstick. James was sporting two braids, twirling one in his fingers while smacking loudly on some gum, and Sirius had bouncy blonde pigtails tied with pink ribbons. Sirius let out another high giggle and said in a falsetto, "Well dearie me, would you look at how many boys are staring? I'm blushing down to my unmentionables! I tell you Jamesica, I must be having a good hair day!"

A pause of silence, then the Great Hall erupted into laughter.

"Why Siriusette, I do believe they like us!" James declared, fluttering his eyelashes.

Someone threw some grapes at them, which they both avoided by jumping back and shrieking, "Eep!"

I buried my face in my hands, trying to block out the cheers as they started off in a runway strut down the center aisle, hands on jutted out hips.

Wait – I looked up again, to see if they would…Yep, they would. In front of the professors' table they were posing like models, exaggerating seductive positions, and blowing the occasional kiss out to the cheering audience. Sirius even turned around and flirtatiously flipped his skirt up at the Puffs. The air was filled with flowers that had been plucked from the table decorations and thrown at the guys.

This – this was so sad…

* * *

Days later, and I was still having a hard time accepting that my perfect prank had been perfectly ruined. Of course, Q hadn't taken public credit for the fail, so no one – except the Marauders – knew there was more to the story besides James and Sirius goofing off again. I'd even had to quickly replace everyone's Remover, lest they get suspicious. Thus, the guys had been able to acquire some by the end of the day.

Miffed as I was, I had to give them brownie points. So rarely am I outsmarted.

That's when the Marauders started getting the notes.

Peter found the first one stuck as a bookmark in a book he was using at the library for a Transfiguration essay. It looked like a scrap of paper torn from a girl's diary.

_Sometimes I feel like he's hiding something, _it said._ He's so shy and q—_

"What's that, Wormtail?" asked Remus, scribbling away on his own parchment.

Peter shrugged and handed it over. "Found it in here." He pointed to the open book.

Remus glanced at the book, then at the scrap. Then at the book. Then at the scrap. And the book. Lastly, once more at the scrap—

"You okay, mate?" Sirius had woken up from his nap and was now peering concernedly at Remus.

Disturbed from his own slumber, James opened an eye.

"This might be nothing." Remus gave him the scrap and book. "But isn't this a bit of a coincidence? It was marking this page…"

"Rodents: The Common Rat. Magical purposes of," Sirius read out loud. "Blah, blah… ooh didn't know that… rat tails have fortune telling possibilities?…Blah blah… plague… disease ridden… something something… Chinese zodiac…wombats?! Wombats!" He put the book down. "That took an unexpected turn…"

James, awake now, grabbed the diary scrap. "Rats in Wormtail's book? And…" he put his finger under the last letter of the sentence fragment, holding it up for them to see. "Q?"

"Oh, I see what you're doing there," Sirius said. "But seriously? That's a bit far fetched."

They looked at each other, then decided.

"Coincidence."

* * *

Author's Note: heh heh heh sillies... nobody messes with Alex!


	11. The Chapter of Azerbaijan

Author's Note: This didn't take _that_ long...right? Comparatively? Thank you my lovelies Q'Spoon, nsisdazl, WaveMasterYami, dreamin'BIG, GoodGirlzDead, Totally CRAZY, Eskimo, RandomRiter, and Ummm!

This first little bit is for us Lucius fangirls and should answer a lot of your questions about him and Alex, such as how did he know about the Dance of the Cobweb etc. I'm happy I finally got the opportunity to reveal this info about Alex!

* * *

SUMMER, FIFTH YEAR/SIXTH YEAR; VIENNA, AUSTRIA

"_Alex, love. What a surprise," drawled Lucius, not showing any surprise at all at her sudden appearance. He casually leaned against the doorway to his bedroom, drawing attention to the fact that he was clad in only a towel. _

_Alex tried not to notice how well he pulled off the half-naked thing. "Look, I don't have much time. My parents are downstairs talking to yours before the opera. We aren't staying."_

"_Ah. And how are Claudia and Jonathan these days?"_

"_Don't be smooth. You know what I want to talk about."_

_One corner of his mouth quirked into a half smile. He knew exactly what she was referring to._

"_The flowers. The secret admirer notes." She raised an eyebrow. "Oh. I suppose now you're going to deny it."_

"_There is nothing secret about my admiration."_

_Alex ignored him. Lucius always avoided directness with faux-flirtation. "There was a boy. You scared him off. He thought he had competition."_

"_Muggle?"_

"_Of course."_

"_Then you can thank me later. In whatever manner," Lucius gave her a slow wink, "you feel most appropriate. Or…inappropriate," he drawled. Alex just looked at him, somewhat tiredly. "I'm always willing to be your knight-in-shining-amour." _

_She let out an incredulous laugh. "Did you just say amour? As in, lover?"_

"_I must have misspoke. You must excuse my innocent slip of tongue," he said smoothly._

"_Please, keep your subconscious in your pants." This conversation was quickly going downhill. Alex was regretting confronting Lucius. He was the sort of guy who was always coming out of rooms straightening his tie and tucking his shirt back in, and when one questioned him about it, one immediately became the subject of his charming attentions and suave flirtation. It was time to regain control of the conversation._

"_You," Lucius said decidedly, "look like you do not have an escort for this evening's opera."_

"_Why, I thought you'd never offer." She smiled._

_It was his turn to pause._

_Alex placed her hand on the doorframe and leaned in closer. "Our parents will be so pleased. Now, I excuse you to attire yourself and contact your 'date' to inform her that her services are no longer required." She stepped back abruptly and left._

_In a rare moment of self-expression, Lucius fondly watched her leave, his lips curving into a miniscule smile._

_Damn, that girl was good._

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

"Curses!" I snatched my hand back and stuck my finger in my mouth. "Paper-cut," I explained to Amanda's questioning look.

She grunted and returned to rifling through her pile of papers. "You're getting bad karma for breaking into the Headmaster's office and going through his things. Oh, nothing in this one. Just forms and boring official documenty stuff." She wandered over to a side table piled high with stacks of papers and various odds and ends. "He has so much crap. Dumbledore is so odd. I bet none of it does anything remotely useful."

"I wouldn't open that one if I were you," warned a high-pitched voiced.

I quickly took my good hand off the handle of the desk drawer. The portrait of Dilys Derwent was examining me. "Booby-trapped?" I asked.

A crotchety "What do you think?" was her only response.

I decided not to test her wisdom, and instead backed away from Dumbledore's desk and turned my attention to a bookcase.

Amanda was fiddling with an odd contraption made of silver spheres and wires. Every time she touched the largest sphere the entire thing started to whirr and sputter. "What is this supposed to do? Remind Dumbledore where his spectacles are?"

"And this…" She picked up a jar. Something inside was suspended in a jelly-like substance. "Must be his false teeth."

"Amanda…" I warned. "You can leave if you're just going to make snarky comments."

She suddenly burst out laughing. "Look!" She pointed to a glass cabinet. "He even locks up his socks!"

It was true. Unfortunately. I couldn't explain to Amanda that inside those socks were some items of a delicate nature and the socks were more of a theft deterrence than the locked cabinet was. So Amanda had more ammo to use in her lovely exercise of free speech and independent opinion.

"You know, I've been thinking about where Dumbledore's gone off to. Isn't it just like him to be on an extended vacation at his secret truffle farm? Or a lemon drop convention?" Amanda snorted at her genius.

"Actually," I said seriously, "he's more likely to be running with the wolves."

We both paused to consider the mental image of Dumbledore, in a moonlit forest, knobby knees and spindly arms flailing about as he scrambles on all fours after the pack. In my vision, his gray beard whipped through the air behind him, tied at the end with a piece of bark, and he was naked except for his socks and spectacles.

It took us a while to regain our breath after the laugh attack. The portraits frowned down on us disapprovingly. "So sorry, please excuse us," I wheezed. "All in good fun."

"If you're quite finished," snapped Dilys Derwent, "you would do well to check the fireplace."

I leaped over to the fireplace and stuck my arm up the chimney. While I was feeling around, Dilys Derwent gave an annoyed sigh. "The ashes, girl. The ashes."

After flashing her a sheepish look, I knelt down to poke in the ashes. Once my hands were sufficiently dirty I…actually found something. I pulled it out and brushed it off to get a closer look.

"What _is_ that?" Amanda asked, kneeling next to me.

Examining the object in my palm, I said, confused, "It's an earring."

"An earring?! Dumbledore wears earrings?" Amanda exclaimed incredulously. "_I knew it."_

"No…" I frowned. "But why does this look so familiar?" Another thought struck my mind. "Professor Derwent," I said, turning to face the portrait, "how did you know this was here? Do you know what happened to Dumbledore?"

"Of course, child."

I gaped at her. "But you didn't feel like mentioning—?"

"You never asked." She gave me a mean old woman smirk. Of all the nasty things to do… When I was old I was going to make people suffer like I was suffering now! They'd be crying, I'd be cackling in delight at their pain! So take _that, _Dilys Derwent!

"So what happened to Dumbledore?" Amanda asked, getting to the point while I was still smarting from my egregious oversight.

"It was a while ago," the portrait started. "The Headmaster was sitting at his desk when he got an owl. It gave him a box. That earring was in it. The Headmaster ran to the fireplace and flooed out. A couple hours later he was back. He grabbed a few things. Then he was gone again. And that's it. It's getting close to four o'clock." From a pocket she pulled out some pink earmuffs and placed them on her head.

I considered the circumstances. On the one hand, I had azerbaijillion questions I wanted to ask the old meanie. On the other hand, it was getting close to four o'clock.

This was a serious dilemma.

Amanda was watching me closely, looking vulnerable, so I made the decision to save her. "We must leave immediately!" I cried, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the spiral stone steps.

"Wha—?" Amanda exclaimed.

"No time for questions!"

We were just bursting out into the corridor when four o'clock came. Behind and above us, Dumbledore's office exploded into eardrum-splitting uproar as all his 281 cuckoo clocks triumphantly and gleefully crowed the coming of the new hour.

* * *

"A ball?!" James repeated, sitting up in his favorite comfy chair in the library.

"It's officially confirmed," Sirius stated. "By Ralphie Phillis who got it from Lucinda Layflower who sometimes cleans up after class for Slughorn."

"But why?" James looked terrified.

"Apparently it's a tradition left over from some tournament they used to have every once in a while. Usually it's on Christmas but now it's before winter break," supplied Remus.

"No." James still seemed horrified. "How could anyone willingly enslave themselves to the Slugbag?"

"Extra credit," decided Sirius. "The alternative is too horrible to consider."

Remus sighed.

"So." James started counting on his fingers. "I only have a little more than a month to get Lily to agree to go with me. Oh, and learn how to dance."

"Tough," said Sirius sympathetically. "You still count with your fingers?"

James punched him in the arm.

"I can teach you how to dance," offered Remus. "A day or so of practice is all you really need."

"Thanks, mate." James clasped Remus' shoulder gratefully. "Do you have plans yet for asking someone?"

"I haven't really thought about it," Remus allowed. This sparked a free for all in which his friends shouted suggestions of cute girls for several minutes, all at once. By the end of it, Remus looked fairly disheveled.

"Uh…Thanks for the advice," Remus stammered, patting his hair back down.

"Anytime," Sirius assured him.

"Peter has that Hufflepuff girl," said James. Peter stuttered out an embarrassed affirmative. "That takes care of us. Except, Padfoot, for you."

Sirius gave him a wry grin.

"Oh, come on, mate," James said, exasperated. "You're not still going on about that girl, are you? That was forever ago. And I thought you learned your lesson after all you went through. Geez, Padfoot, the sea is yours for the fishing."

"Your concern is noted," said Sirius, examining his nails.

"But you can't stand in the way of true love!" cried Peter.

The others stared at Peter, who blushed and hid his face.

"Who said anything about love?" Sirius scoffed.

Peter looked even more ashamed.

"It's alright, Wormtail," Remus said soothingly. "It's nice that you're a romantic."

"Being romantic is overrated," dismissed Sirius.

"You catch more flies with honey and all that, sure, but then you're stuck with a freaking fly." James laughed at his own joke. "Romance is for nancy boy Malfoy."

"Lucius has more success on a daily basis than you two have had in your life," Remus pointed out.

James frowned at the thought.

"Malfoy is a manwhore," argued Sirius.

This caused James to burst out laughing. "Mate, so are you!"

Sirius grinned.

* * *

Author's Note: *sings* Sirius is in denial...

Ooh, do I smell plot?


	12. The Chapter of Mangosteen Delight

Author's Note: *hides in shame* Uhh... I have no defense... but I'm home from college now, and I actually have time to do something other than translate Ovid or draw molecular orbital diagrams or run away from guys... so hopefully more chapters are forthcoming? Much love for the reviewers: WaveMasterYami, QPS, Ninja, Frodo'sPen, GoodGirlzDead, Once-Upon-A-Story, and BEN. It is for you that my weary fingers type!

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

"It'll come to you eventually." Amanda patted my shoulder. "Don't kill yourself over it."

Paul peered at me concernedly through his glasses. "Bed soon, promise?"

"Promise," I returned. He probably didn't believe me. But he was too tired to care. I'd kept them up way past their bedtimes. And you know how children get. Cranky, that's what.

With one last look each, they exited the Lair, leaving me alone, staring down at the earring.

This little silver and pearl contraption. No longer grimy, because my fingers had long rubbed away the last traces of ash. It was the source of all my problems. Actually, all the misery in the world. Third world countries lived in anguish because of this stupid earring! Why couldn't I remember why it looked so familiar? What was its secret? And, most importantly why had Dumbledore disappeared after receiving it?

There were so many questions. No answers. This was a desperate time. And desperate times call for desperate measures. Such as consulting a magic eight ball.

Luckily I had one in my pocket. I had foreseen this moment, long ago when I'd bought it in Hogsmeade.

I drew out the magic eight ball and started shaking it. "Have I seen this earring before?" I asked out loud. You have to ask yes or no questions, of course. Everyone knows how to use a magic eight ball. The thing about _magic_ magic eight balls, however, was that they told you what they wanted to. Which sometimes wasn't actually the truth. It was a risk, using one.

_Yes_, the eight ball read.

"Recently?"

_Define recently._

I was startled for a moment. "Uh… the past year?"

_No._

"Since I've been at Hogwarts?"

_Try again later._

I narrowed my eyes at the eight ball. So it thought it could get sassy, did it? Just when it had proven that it could go beyond the usual yes/no routine.

I prodded it exceedingly hard. Multiple times. "Don't like that, do you? Huh, tough guy? I'll have none of your sass!" That would show it. I meant Business.

_Ow._

"I mean Business!!"

_You've made your point. It's a painful one._

Perhaps my jabs had been getting a little too forceful. "Sorry. Moving on. Let's forget that ever happened. Water under the carpet. Whatever the saying is. Oh, I think there were bridges. Which makes more sense than carpets. Water under the bridge! Yes! Then why was I thinking of carpets? Oh, yeah! Sweep it under the carpet, isn't that another one of whatchyacallems, aphorisms? No, that's the other thing. Gosh, why am I suddenly picturing juicy mangosteens? Does that ever happen to you? Like, you're thinking one thing, and then _bam_, all of a sudden, it's like, mangosteen delight in your head!"

_Please stop talking._

"Why do magical objects always say that to me?" I wondered.

_Maybe you should see a specialist._

"A mangosteen specialist? Do those exist?"

_A psychiatry specialist._

"Oh, they tried once when I was nine, I think as part of a debriefing. I don't know what for. My memory was modified. I think bad things happened. But they never talk about it, and, of course, I can't remember."

_They?_

"Mother and Father."

_The answer is the first._

"What?"

_The answer is the first._

"No, not the literal 'what' as in, I couldn't hear you, please repeat. The connotative 'what' as in, error: cryptic input please explain further." I said this in a robot voice in order to be more helpful.

_Try again later._

I shook the magic eight ball really hard. A lot. The message never changed. "Oh, bloody hell. I broke the magic eight ball." I shook it again harder. I still had questions to ask! "MAGIC EIGHT BALL IF YOU'RE LISTENING, I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT DUMBLEDORE! AND WHAT IS A MANGOSTEEN? IS IT EDIBLE?"

Dammit. I didn't get the last laugh.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was leaning nonchalantly against a low-hanging tree in the courtyard, watching Sirius with a small smirk.

Gesturing goodbye to the group of boys he had just exited class with, Sirius broke away from them and headed over to dark shadows under the tree, which was still dripping from the day's earlier shower. No emotion showed on his face as he ducked under the leaves to join Lucius.

They faced each other, Lucius still smirking, Sirius' smooth expression confident but completely unreadable. A confrontation of two young men, each the undisputed leader of his own sphere of influence. Spheres that clashed and conflicted too often to be ignored. It is the way of the world, one of those unbreakable natural laws, that dominant young males do not share their power with any. There must be a confrontation. And there must be a winner.

"It is safe?" Sirius finally said.

"Over the years, I've learned of a few... blind spots," Lucius drawled, flaunting his advantage in knowledge.

"The Winter Ball," stated Sirius coolly, ignoring the taunt.

"Yes, I thought we might discuss it."

"Bloody hell… this isn't the part where you confess your love and ask me to the dance, is it?" Sirius grinned. "I'm flattered, but you probably need to know—"

"Enough," Lucius snapped. Sirius flashed another grin, this time one of success, and Lucius set his jaw, trying to compose himself. "About the convenience of the Ball? Are we in agreement?"

"It's suitable." Sirius shrugged. "Unless you need more time, of course…"

"I find myself in a rather secure position." Lucius was smug. "If that was a suggestion on your part, however, please feel free to move the deadline. There is no shame in admitting failure."

Sirius absentmindedly placed a hand on the branch above Lucius' head and leaned forward. Lucius raised an eyebrow at this invasion of space but didn't give ground. "Oh, I admit to my failings quite often," he said cheerily. "For example, I am regretful of the fact that I absolutely can not pass up this opportunity—" With a mischievous grin he gave the branch a shove and jumped back.

Lucius' eyes narrowed in suspicion and then widened as the branch rained all of its collected water on his head.

* * *

"Prongs, you're not at Quidditch practice?" Remus put a hand on James' shoulder, eyebrows creased together in concern. "Right before the first game?"

Startled, James, who was lying down backwards on his bed, looked up at Remus, then stared back at the ceiling. He continued bouncing a quaffle off the wall, catching it, and tossing it back. "Don't mind me. I am practicing."

"Riiight." Remus reached out to catch the quaffle but James, lightning fast, snatched it from his outstretched hand. "Okay, I guess you don't need the practice."

"Moony! What's taking so long?" It was Sirius from the doorway. "Prongs? Don't you have—"

"Fine!" snarled James, jumping up. "If you must know, Evans turned me down for the Winter Ball. Again. And I needed some time to regroup."

There were letters and scraps of parchment spread out all over the bed, framing a James-sized imprint where he had been lying. Sirius picked one up. "Dear James Potter," he read out loud. "Will u go 2 the Ball w/ me? Circle one: Yes/No." It was remarkable the way he voiced the abbreviations. He turned it over. "Odd, there's no signature. What happens if you circle yes? Some girl on the other side of Hogwarts lets out a scream reverberating off the rooftops and a few birds go flying?"

Remus stifled a laugh. "Are all of these like that?" He shuffled through them, getting a glimpse of many entreaties written in varying degrees of feminine handwriting and giving off varying scents of perfume.

James shrugged, trying to conceal a gleeful grin.

It did not escape Sirius, however, who chuckled and shook his head. "Trying to make us think you had depth, Prongs? You're not self-pitying because of one failure, you're basking in your glory!"

He took James' playful punch to the shoulder. "You haven't been getting them?" asked James carefully.

"Eh," admitted Sirius, shrugging. "No big loss."

Remus, shuffling through the letters, shot Sirius a side glance, recalling the time when Sirius had opened his bag after Transfiguration and it was full of notes, and the time that a girl had run up to them in the hall, stuttering, handed a pink envelope to Sirius and ran away again, and the time when a girl (who Sirius had once had a thing with) greeted him with a kiss and tucked something into his pocket.

"Well, now that you've found out my dirty secret, I'd best be off to practice." James retrieved the quaffle and tucked it under his arm. Sirius gave him a full salute in farewell.

"Wait." Remus held up a letter. It was different from the other pink and white ones, being written on pure black paper. He flipped it over to show them an illustration of a wilting red rose, and read off it: "Tired of rejection, Potter? You're not _going stag,_ are you?" The fallen petals of the rose made a circle around the words.

Sirius' jaw dropped. He grabbed the paper from Remus and traced the circle of petals with his finger, ending with one in the lower right corner, outside the rest. James, looking over his shoulder, recognized the shape of a Q, and his own mouth opened in shock.

"That's not a coincidence," said Remus, shivering slightly, picturing the mysterious Q watching as they took on their Animagi forms, joining werewolf!Remus at full moon.

"It's not subtle as Wormtail's rat thing, assuming that was another of Q's hints," said Sirius, further inspecting the paper. He glanced up at James' white face. "Remember how to breathe, Prongs?"

"How are you so calm?" exclaimed James. "Unless you think you've escaped Q, just because you're the only one who hasn't been singled out by a malicious and omnipotent unknown person who just revealed that he knows your worst secrets? AND CAN USE THEM TO DESTROY LIFE AS YOU KNOW IT? I'm too beautiful to go to Azkaban!"

"Of course I don't think I've escaped Q." Sirius shook his head. "But this isn't the time to panic. We suspected this for a while. The proof is frightening, true, and I think the best option for us right now is to cut our losses and try to avoid the worst."

"Agreed," said Remus. "A permanent halt to the Q investigation, effective immediately."

James' expression went from fear at being discovered, in a typical guy switch of emotion, to a boyish grimace showing how much he hated to admit defeat. "All right," he said flatly. It was probably the first time he was acknowledging that someone had gotten the better of him. Character growth? My ghostly hand patted his shoulder fondly.

"If you're listening, Q, and I don't doubt you are," Sirius said loudly, looking about the dormitory. "Why would you miss this moment of triumph?" he muttered. Raising his voice again, he said, "We officially give in! You won! It's over! We are laying down arms!"

James looked startled again, as if he'd never thought Q might actually _be listening that very moment_.

Ah, James. I smiled. He was my favorite. Sirius, however — he was a smart one. He caught on quickly. I made a note to self for future reference, that that one had to be watched.

I slid out of the Regardiun teacup and returned to the Lair, leaving the Marauders to themselves. It was a big moment for them, and they deserved a reward. And I needed to tell Paul and Amanda that our own celebrations were in order.

I laughed in relief at our success, then paused. YES! The last laugh. It was mine.

* * *

Author's Note: Almost forgot, you might want to visit my profile page. There you will find a goodie. And please don't laugh too much at me. IT'S NOT THAT FUNNY.


	13. The Chapter of Brilliant Last Words

Author's Note: I'm excited for this chapter, because the flashback is one I've had in mind since the very beginning. Also, something you've all been waiting for: more Alex/Sirius!

Thank you wonderful reviewers QPS, Cookies321, B.E.N., WaveMasterYami, and kakashi92!

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

"Fifty feet in the air," Paul groaned. We were choosing our seats in the Gryff stands, waiting the start of the first Quidditch game, Gryffindor versus, of course, Slytherin. Paul was sandwiched between me and Amanda. We'd chosen nosebleed seats, content to be far back from the action in the first rows. Well, Paul wasn't content. Paul had this little thing about heights.

He also had a little thing about claustrophobia, and did not appreciate Amanda and me squeezing warmth out of him, but he had no choice. Whenever we sat together, Paul was always in the middle. Being the blond and the tallest, he tended to draw the eye. A darker haired girl on either side of him created exactly the kind of symmetry that the same eye would then slide over. A specialty of mine, staying hidden in plain sight. People don't notice symmetrical things. It's only the differences and oddities that stand out. Never underestimate the dark and fearsome powers of symmetry! Many a geometry student has met their doom!

"Settle down," complained Amanda. "I'm trying to keep warm here."

"It's a long way to fall!" he defended. "A person could die!"

"Then it's a good thing you don't play Quidditch," Amanda said. "If the fate of this match rested in your hands, I think I would cry."

"From laughing so hard!" I interrupted. "Paul on a broomstick is hilarity like no other. Remember first year?"

"How could I forget? He hasn't been on a broomstick since!"

"Traumatic experience," Paul mumbled. "Buffalos."

"Oh, the fun we had during first year flying lessons…never expected the marauding buffalos, though Paul loved them…" Amanda squeezed Paul's arm. She leaned forward to address me. "Alex, you picked up flying pretty quickly. You should have tried out for the team."

"That's ridiculous," Paul broke in.

"And become an instant celebrity?" I shook my head. "No, thanks."

"Sometimes I wonder what matches would have been like if Alex had gotten involved in Quidditch," Amanda said thoughtfully. "A lot more interesting, for sure!"

I grinned at her. "I _have_ always thought a few well timed explosions would spice this sport up a bit."

Amanda laughed.

"Seriously, though," I continued. "I did get involved in Quidditch once. And then Dumbledore kind of banned me from it for all eternity."

"You got _kind of banned_ from Quidditch _for all eternity!?_"

"By_ Dumbledore!?"_

* * *

FOURTH YEAR

_Alex glanced over at the empty announcer's box, where the giant magically enhanced megaphone waited. "Aren't we missing something?" she said to Dumbledore, who had been watching as the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams filed out onto the pitch below. The screams and cheers of the stands were a dull roar around them._

_The Headmaster followed her gaze. "You are absolutely right, my dear. Where has Silas Brown gone off to?"_

"_He did have a bit of a cough yesterday," Alex suggested. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's still sleeping off the tonic in the hospital wing."_

_They waited a few more minutes._

"_I don't think Mr. Brown will be joining us. The game will start any moment," Dumbledore said. "My dear, if you be so kind?"_

"_Of course," Alex assured him. She ducked into the small announcer's box, which was enclosed and cast in shadow from the viewpoint of the rest of the stadium. _

_Just then, the referee's whistle blew and the players rose into the air._

"_Gryffindor claims the Quaffle — Allen Sherman makes a clean pass to James Potter, but is blocked by a Bludger courtesy of Claw Beater Phoebe Edwards. Claw Chaser Fiona Harvey gains the Quaffle and starts a sprint upfield—"_

_Dumbledore smiled at the sound of Alex's clear voice. He settled into his seat, waiting. _

"_And an intercept by Gryff Chaser Mason Grigg! Ravenclaw tries to make a quick turn around — Mason Grigg is hit by a bludger — the Quaffle is picked up again by James Potter — a feint to the left — GRYFFINDOR SCORES! Ravenclaw could have prevented that easily, if they had been a little QUICKER in a run downfield to get in place for the dropped Quaffle — Claw Chaser Dominic Perry passes to Fiona Harvey — keep your passes short, guys, or you'll get another intercept — AND THERE IT IS! Intercept by the Gryffindors, some excellent defense there, but too downwind to score, better hold onto that Quaffle a bit longer and get in better position — James Potter tries to score but his throw goes wide, you really should listen to me more — A block from the Claw Keeper Logan Basset! WHAT DID I TELL YOU, GRYFFINDORS? Alright, Ravenclaw, here's your chance to get in position — someone get up left for Harvey to pass to! Are you STATUES? GET THOSE BROOMS UPFIELD! No, more to the left, Perry, or you'll be a perfect target for Bludgers — Beater Edwards saves Perry from the first Bludger! No, don't pause now, THERE'S STILL A SECOND BLUDGER OUT THERE — Oh, Perry goes down right as Harvey makes a pass, looks like it hurt, don't say I didn't warn you— caught by Gryff Chaser Mason Grigg! Ravenclaw mark your men, if you defend a Chaser they can't get passed to, which puts Grigg in a pickle, trying to avoid those Bludgers and hold onto the Quaffle with no help — Are you LISTENING TO ME? WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT MARKING EVERY CHASER? WHY ARE THERE TWO OF YOU ON SHERMAN WHILE POTTER IS FREE? Grigg passes to Potter, who can easily put it through the right hoop, Keeper Basset is preparing to defend the left — BLOCKED BY BASSET AT THE LEFT HOOP EVEN THOUGH I TOLD POTTER TO SCORE ON THE RIGHT REALLY YOUR LIVES WOULD BE SO MUCH EASIER IF YOU JUST LISTENED —"_

_Dumbledore left his seat rather quickly. _

"_RAVENCLAW, IF YOU DON'T WORK THE QUAFFLE UPFIELD WITH SHORT PASSES NOW YOU'RE GOING TO LOSE THIS ONE — IS THAT THE SNITCH? NO, OVER BY THE SLYTHERIN STANDS — BATTLE IT OUT, MY LITTLE SEEKERS —"_

_Alex looked up when Dumbledore placed his hand on her shoulder. "My dear, maybe you should sit this one out."_

_She reluctantly stood up. "I could have made them into something grand…"_

_Dumbledore hid a smile at her broken hearted tone. "Miss Moore, a inter-House Quidditch game is _not_ the time to flaunt your prowess at strategy."_

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

"Q, we give up!" James said for good luck. Ever since the affair with the letters, and their declaration of surrender, the Marauders had taken to shouting similar sentiments to the open air, just in case Q hadn't gotten the message. So far, it was working. There hadn't been any more incidents. Currently, James was keeping his eye up, waiting for his fellow Chaser who was currently dodging a Bludger to pass him the Quaffle, just as they'd planned out during practice.

Two things happened at once. One, Grigg pulled out of his dive and launched the Quaffle at James. And two, James' broomstick, which had been very solid the moment before, broke in half with a _snap!_

The Quaffle sailed by and James stared at it helplessly, unable to do anything but experience the queasiness his stomach was going through as a result of entering free-fall while figuring out that the handle his hands were holding was not actually attached to the part of the broom he was sitting on.

In the moments before his certain demise, James tried to think of his last words. They had to be something worthy of the Marauders, something with class. Something that future generations would look up to. "James Potter and the Marauders," they'd say dreamily. "Nothing compares to their quality of supreme excellence."

The ground came up fast.

James went, "Oh FU—"

* * *

Normally, in the middle of the night, long past curfew, you don't expect to stumble over dead bodies on your way back to Gryffindor Tower from Dumbledore's Office, where you've spent the last couple hours questioning the portrait of Dilys Derwent.

"AHH!" I said, trying to regain my balance. "ZOMBIE!"

The dead body groaned and shifted.

Then it OPENED AN EYE.

As I wasn't fond of my brains being nomed on, I started to flee.

The zombie moved faster than me. It jumped up and caught my elbow.

"Please," I pleaded as it dragged me towards it. "Please don't nom on my brains! They have no flavor! I know this from experience!"

"Who are you calling a zombie?" said the zombie, who turned out to be Sirius Black.

"You're alive," I stammered out.

"Generally, I am."

"This feels like a trap." Then I realized: Sirius Black A.K.A. the dog Animagus A.K.A. Padfoot A.K.A. pads are bandages A.K.A. if you have bandages around your feet that makes you a MUMMY!

"Except when you're in your sarcophagus at night, fiend! I have found you out!" I leaped back and brandished my wand.

"So now I'm a mummy? Will the injustice never end?"

That made me pause.

"Just so you know, mummies don't use their sarcophaguses to sleep in, like vampires do with coffins," Sirius said politely.

"How do you know?"

"Mother collects them."

"_Mummies?"_

"Sarcophaguses."

"That makes more sense."

"Yes," he agreed.

"Wait," I said. "What are you doing here? It's like, past midnight."

"I got kicked out once visiting hours were over," Sirius replied, and then I realized that we were in front of the hospital wing.

Aww, he'd been sleeping outside because he couldn't stay with James inside. Adorable. True love, anyone?

"Is he going to make it?" I asked. "Was it fatal?"

"Just a concussion and a broken wrist. Nothing serious. Both are healed now."

"It was weird, what happened."

"Yeah." He looked angry.

His expression made me suspicious. "You don't suspect foul play, do you? These things do happen, but since it _is_ James Potter, maybe a jealous boyfriend—"

"The professors ruled out foul play."

"Well, then." I looked at him closely. "But you don't believe that."

"Oh, I know _exactly_ what happened," Sirius said coolly. A cold fury was visible in the shadows of his smooth features. I shivered involuntarily. I feared his wrath… but at the same time, it was incredibly hot. Okay, I needed to get my priorities into perspective. Enough of the fraternizing with the enemy! Well, _technically,_ fraternizing had its roots from brotherly, while the things I imagined doing with the enemy were anything _but_ brotherly. So it was all right then.

Don't you love logic?

Except my logic had turned Sirius into a mummy, and I could see now that perhaps I'd been led astray on that one.

Revise: don't you love logic that lets you do things to Sirius Black excluding turning him into a mummy?

"I see you," said Sirius.

I stopped.

"Don't try any of that backing away slowly stuff. Nobody ever backs away slowly from me." He grinned.

"Then it's a good thing I'm nobody."

"What? No—"

"Prove it. Do I even have a name? What is it?"

"That's completely unfair—"

"See! Case closed. QED."

"You can't just spout Latin to make it seem like your point is proven."

"It's not Latin per se, it's an acronym of some words that happen to be in Latin."

"Same thing. And you just used more Latin."

"It makes me feel learned."

"And the fact that people are less likely to question you when you use Latin that they barely understand?"

"Gasp. You have uncovered my intentions."

"I would never presume."

"Presumptions aside."

"Then yes."

"Foolish mortal."

"Well, the gods haven't smitten me yet."

"Smitten? As in, to be strongly attracted to someone?" I was confused.

"I was thinking more along the lines of the past participle of smote. If it were your way, it wouldn't have been a negative statement."

"So that would mean you _are_ smitten."

Sirius grinned deviously, making me wish furiously that I could delete the last five minutes of conversation. "You walked right into that one," he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.

"I'm sure I can find my way out again rather easily."

"Wouldn't be so sure about that."

"Really?" I laughed dismissively. "You think _you_ can keep _me_?"

One corner of his mouth twisted into an arrogant half smile. "A deal, then."

Ooh. I was fantastic at cards. "Hit."

"I release you now, thus ending the debate civilly, and you agree to accompany me to the Winter Ball."

"I'll see your bid, and raise you on two accounts. First, no accompaniment, but you may have a dance or two. Second, in exchange, you receive a goodnight kiss."

"Done, and done."

Quickly, before Sirius could move, I stood up on my tiptoes and gave him a peck on his clean shaven cheek. "Goodnight," I said.

* * *

Author's Note: Ahaha, Alex is such a tease.


	14. The Chapter of Butterflies Happen

Author's Note: My eternal gratitude to QPS, GoodGirlzDead, Danii, BEN, WaveMasterYami, and Frodo'sPen for reviewing!  


* * *

SIXTH YEAR

"Word on the street is," said Sirius casually, leaning an arm on the desk, "if one were to have need of certain powders and potions of a sensitive nature, you're the guy to talk to."

"Depends," grunted the scrawny shaggy-haired boy. His bangs fell into his eyes as he hunched over the textbook he was reading in the minutes before class began, trying to hide it from Sirius. He looked like the kind of kid who would die rather than be caught reading. "Who'd you hear that from?" he continued in a gruff voice, trying to sound tough.

"Oh, you know," Sirius said easily. "The street. Like I said earlier. I just knelt down and it whispered to me. Mostly sweet nothings, but there were a few snippets of useful information."

The boy peered up at Sirius through his curtain of dyed black hair, silent. "That was supposed to be funny," he said suddenly. "I get it. You're funny. I didn't think you'd be funny."

"I'm much more of a strong silent type, I know," Sirius said sadly. "People often get the wrong impression. Curse of my life, I swear."

"Sirius Black is funny," the boy repeated, too himself. Louder, he said, "You're supposed to be all intimidating and shit. It's your rep. I'm not intimidated." He leaned back and crossed his arms, glaring at Sirius. "I'm disappointed."

Sirius leaned closer. "Listen, kid. I don't have the patience to play 'who's tougher' games with a nancy boy Third Year with fluff on his cheeks and desperate need of a haircut just so he can try to act cool in front of his little buddies." From his robes Sirius withdrew the broken handle of a broomstick and tossed it on the desk. "Can you help me or not?"

"So I'm the one Sirius Black comes to when he needs help?" said the boy with a self-satisfied sneer.

"You know what?" Sirius grabbed the front of the boy's robes and dragging him forward. "You want intimidating, you'll get intimidating," he growled. "Ever try holding a wand with broken knuckles?"

"What'll I break them on, then? Your face?" The boy said the last part a little less confidently than before, with a tiny waver in his voice. Being at Sirius' mercy had that effect on people.

Sirius paused. "You're brave, kid. I'll give you that. Maybe we'll make something of you yet." He let go, and the boy fell awkwardly back into his seat with a squeak. "You'll have to do better than a 'your face' joke under pressure, of course," he added as an afterthought.

The boy looked shocked and a little pleased by Sirius' words. "Um uh let's see here," he stammered, picking up the broomstick just to have something for his shaky hands to do. He frowned at the jagged end. "This isn't really my area. I just blow things up. This is subtle. You need to find the Larcener."

"The Larcener? He have a name?" asked Sirius.

"Lars Dingle, I s'pose. And he's actually — well, you'll find out."

"Thanks, kid." Sirius reached over and ruffled his hair. With his hair sticking up in different directions, the boy looked extremely young. "Oh dear, maybe not." Sirius patted the boy's hair back down. "Anyways, I owe you one."

With that, he left the classroom. The other Third Years, who had broken off conversation to watch, erupted into excited chatter.

One boy who looked faint with jealously leaned over. "Dude," he whispered urgently. "_Sirius Black_ called you brave! Sirius Black _owes you one!_"

* * *

Something went thud on the table in front of Lars, who looked up from the small cauldron, eyes magnified by huge goggles, and blinked.

A very good looking guy was standing in front of Lars, looking expectant. Lars, to whom things like this simply did not happen, let out an eep and dropped the rest of the dried foxglove into the cauldron all at once. The potion gave up a huge poof of green smoke in protest. Coughing, Lars tried to wave it away.

"I have a problem with a sabotaged broomstick," said Sirius, motioning to the broken handle before Lars. "I was told the Larcener might be able to help."

Lars pushed the goggles up and leaned over to examine the piece of polished wood. "This was a nice broom once," she said.

"Wait. _You're_ Lars Dingle?'" exclaimed Sirius, astonished. "You're a girl!"

Lars blinked at him again. "_You're _Sirius Black. You're a boy!"

Sirius recovered quickly. Lars, with her large goggles barely holding her frizzy hair down, made an odd picture. He chuckled. "Well, I haven't made sure lately. Would you like to check for me?"

Another thing that did not happen to Lars was being flirted with by guys making suggestive comments. She blushed deeply and tried to duck her head, causing her goggles to fall back down over her eyes.

Sirius reached over and pulled the goggles off over her head. "That's better."

Lars was sure her cheeks were so flushed that they were bright pink. "I need those," she said nervously. "You don't really want to make a Detonation Draft without protection."

Trying to keep a straight face, Sirius said, "I believe you are the only person in all of Hogwarts with that particular problem."

"Not the _only_ person," Lars said without thinking. "Though she never does use proper eyewear."

"Eh? What's that?" asked Sirius.

Lars remembered who she was talking to. "Oh, just the girl who taught me how to make it in the first place. Speaking of problems, yours is rather simple."

"Simple?" he echoed.

"Yes. Only an Elderberry Paste could have done that."

"Of course! How silly of me not to think of it. An Elderberry Paste. It's obvious."

Lars snorted, then looked horrified at herself. Sirius hid a smile. "How might one go about making this paste?" he asked.

"Just a few simple ingredients. Snakeskin, dew, powdered pineapple, those kinds of everyday items. Oh, and the droppings of a spotted hawk owl."

"No elderberries?"

"No elderberries."

Sirius paused. "Isn't that rather counterintuitive?"

"It smells like elderberries. And it decays wood."

"Good lord, I'll never eat another elderberry again."

Lars giggled.

"So would you say this is a complicated paste?"

She snorted again. "Hardly. Just plop the ingredients in and boil. It was actually used in the Middle Ages to clear complexions. The decay thing is just a side effect. Not even a very useful one, since it takes a while to work and isn't very powerful."

"Perfect for slowly destroying a broomstick," muttered Sirius. "Wait, what was that you said about an owl?"

"One of the ingredients is the droppings of a spotted hawk owl."

"Where is it that I've seen a hawk owl?" wondered Sirius out loud.

Lars shrugged. "Good luck with your investigation." She stirred her cauldron, from which another green smoke cloud erupted. Sirius was gone before it cleared.

* * *

"You idiot!" burst out James.

"What?" Sirius asked. "I looked them up. Apparently they're really rare and expensive. A bird of the wealthy. And I know I've seen one of those bloody owls around _somewhere_."

"Maybe that's because," James said sarcastically, "that bloody owl you see flitting about from time to time is _mine_!"

Sirius' mouth went O.

"I can't believe they used my own owl to try to kill me!"

"It is rather morbidly poetic," Sirius agreed. "If it didn't mean a dead end on our last lead, I'd take the time to appreciate it properly."

"Padfoot, I'm never speaking to you again."

* * *

FIFTH YEAR

_Lars Dingle was facing her mortal enemy, the Red Admiral. _

_This time, she had come prepared, armed with a large net, a jar of nail polish remover soaked cotton, and, for back up, her wand. Lars wasn't very good at wand work, which was partly the reason most of the magic she worked involved something bubbling over a fire. Also, it was the reason she had to wear an eyepatch for the entire second half of her first year at Hogwarts. Not that she minded too much the piratical attire, once she got used to the teasing, but the fact that she'd almost poked out her own eye was rather uninspiring. It was far from a decent war story involving nautical adventures fraught with danger on the high seas. Still, late a night, eleven-year-old Lars lay in her bed, imagining peg-legged mad sea captains, monsters of the deep, treasures untold, and swashbuckling swordplay._

_The Red Admiral landed on another flower and slowly extended its proboscis into the nectar chamber._

_Lars, who had been lying in wait, attacked. A high pitched battle cry, a flash of webbed net, and a tightened jar later, Lars was victorious. _

"_Er, pardon me," said someone a bit off to the side. "I hate to disturb this spectacular capture, but I'm supposed to pick up a special order from you."_

_It was Paul. As always, when in the presence of a boy, Lars said the first stupid thing that came to her mind. "Oh, for our quirky quixotic quidditative quicquidlibet?" She gave him a big wink, then mentally smacked herself. Lars always said things she shouldn't and embarrassed herself horribly when she was flustered._

_It didn't seem like Paul noticed her slip of discreetness."Yes. Once again, I'm reduced to errand boy," he said sadly. But he flashed her a playful grin that made Lars' knees feel a bit like jelly even as she giggled at his ridiculousness._

_Then she remembered that Paul hadn't come all the way out here just to talk to her. "Here you go." She withdrew a small vial from her robes. "Anyone drinks a drop of this and they'll sing like a bird."_

_Paul pressed a hand to his open mouth in mock horror. "What kind of awful people do you think we are that we would interrogate our own schoolmates?" _

_Lars giggled again. "No, silly. _Literally_ sing like a bird. Tra la la. A walking musical, complete with spontaneous dance numbers. Dum dah dah dum DAH DUM DAAAAAHH!"_

_Grinning, Paul said, "Thanks again, Larissa. You're as brilliant as always. Good luck with taming your, um, little winged beastie. I assume you're going to milk poison from his fangs?"_

_Recovering first from being called brilliant, Lars was soon launched into a nice afternoon chat with the funniest boy she knew._

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

The Forbidden Forest was significantly less frightening during the day.

But no less dangerous.

The dappled light made it seem almost peaceful under the trees where we waited.

"I'm getting old," I groaned.

"Nonsense," said Amanda, picking up a fallen branch and testing its weight. It crumbled with rot, and she tossed it aside in favor of another. "Sure, you don't fit into ventilation shafts with your old ease, but think of all the other things you can do."

"Like what? Get caught during a getaway because arthritis is slowing me down? Forget the disarming spell at a crucial moment because my memory's gotten spotty and I've just realized that the petunias need weeding? What if I — god forbid it — _neglect to always bring a towel?_"

"How about," Amanda pointed out calmly, "none of that matters, because you now you can get out of anything by seducing men with your feminine wiles?"

"With my what?"

"Feminine wiles."

"That. Is a brilliant idea, my friend."

Amanda eyed me. "Oohkay. Maybe it would be better for the world, judging by that glint in your eye, if we forgot I ever suggested that."

"You think I should practice on Paul?"

"Practice what?"

"My feminine wiles. If I'm to use them, I must keep them sharp."

"Alex," Amanda said sternly, "if you sharpen your feminine wiles on Paul, he will never sleep again."

"Because he's lusting after me?"

"Because he's plagued by nightmares."

I considered this. "So what you're saying is, Paul is off limits."

"What I'm saying is, practicing your feminine wiles is off limits."

Somewhere off to the east came a faint call of "Ca-caw rawr!"

"That's my cue," I said. "The hounds will be here in forty-five seconds. Luckily your ban on practicing doesn't extend this kind. Well, I'd best be off. Trees to climb, streams to lose my scent in, et cetera. Don't miss me too much."

As I sprinted off, Amanda shouted out, "Don't build any death traps this time! The Keeper of the Grounds wants them all back in once piece!"

* * *

Author's Note: Well you didn't think Alex would have the patience for all those quarter turn stirs every half hour type nonsense, did you?


	15. The Chapter of Niches

Author's Note: BEN, Quirkyfire (Q), WaveMasterYami, kitcool, and QPS, this one's for you, my awesome reviewers!

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

"This is silly," I whispered to Amanda.

She pretended not to hear me, though her face, which had been bunched up in concentration, relaxed for a second. The tip of her wand, pointed at a goblet of firewiskey sitting on her desk, wavered. "Bloody hell, Alex!" she said fiercely. "I almost had it!"

"Don't you think McGonagall is going to notice that Lester Abbott filled everyone's goblet with firewhiskey instead of apple juice?" I whispered back. "They look similar, but the room is starting to smell like alcohol!"

"That's just your imagination." Amanda waved a hand. After sneaking a glance at McGonagall, who was working with a girl in the front, she took a sip from the goblet.

"Don't you go all giggly on me," I warned. She'd been sipping the firewhiskey all lesson, as had most of the other students. Some girls towards the back were almost visibly tipsy, laughing amongst themselves and flirting with the boys. The few times I'd glanced back at them, it was obvious that this was to the great delight of Sirius and James. "They're not very subtle about it," I observed.

Sure enough, McGonagall had spotted the girls, and her disapproving frown was preparing to form sharp words when the door of the Transfiguration classroom opened. "For Professor McGonagall," said the messenger, who held out a small scroll of parchment.

Annoyance flashed across McGonagall's features, but she took the parchment and read it quickly. "Students!" she said when she got to the end. "I am stepping out for a minute. I expect progress on your nonverbal vanishing spells when I return." With that, she swept out of the classroom, but no one had really been paying attention.

Amanda poked me. "Was that odd, or what?"

I was about to agree when a high pitched "I C-C-CAN TOO D-D-DO NONVERSHBAL SPELLS!" came from behind. Whirling around, I was just in time to see one of the tipsy girls ferociously jab her wand towards her goblet. When nothing happened, she tried again, shaking her wand harder, and shouted something that was most definitely _not_ the Vanishing Spell, slurring the last syllable. With a _WHOOSH_ of air, a fireball shot out of her wand, hitting the firewhiskey, igniting it and causing bright flames to leap straight up two feet high out of the goblet. The girl shrieked and jumped back, her wand accidentally thrusting at the goblet again. Another fireball shot out amidst screams, missed the goblet, hit the crystal goblet on McGonagall's desk that she had been demonstrating with, and rebounded back.

Remus, who had just dropped his wand after laughing at something James had said, bent over to pick it up just as the fireball whizzed over his head. Instead, it crashed into a portrait at the back of the room with a loud _KABOOM_ and explosion, raining sparks over everyone in the vicinity.

I blinked away the momentary blindness from the bright flash of light, feeling the adrenaline rush at Remus' close call disappear. In its place was a kind of calmness that dulled the world around me, leaving me standing isolated and apart as screaming students fled around me towards the door, arms over their heads to avoid the showering sparks. The portrait, as well as some broken chairs piled in a corner and a wardrobe against the wall, burst into fire. The wall of flame was blistering hot, and spreading fast. Damn magical fires!

The world faded into focus again, and I felt, rather than saw, Amanda standing next to me, gaping at the roar of fire.

"FLEE," I shouted at her, shoving her away from the fire. Someone running past bumped hard into her shoulder, knocking her out of her alcohol induced daze. Her eyes flickered towards me, and I shoved her again, yelling over the screams, "I'LL JOIN YOU AFTER I TAKE CARE OF THIS!" She turned and ran, leaving me, possibly the only sober person in the entire class, to face the fire alone.

"Curses, curses, CURSES!" I said to myself as I advanced towards the fire, haphazardly thrusting chairs and desks out of the way. Waves of heat repelled me from the curtain of roaring flame, which had reached the high ceiling.

Suddenly, there was someone on my left, drawn wand in parallel with my own. Fighting formation, protecting my weak side. There was no time to question, it felt so natural. Wait, there was a word for this. Niche! It seemed I had found my niche.

A niche is a lovely thing, I decided. Everyone should have one. Then there would be world peace! Because who would be thinking of war when they had their very own hole in the wall to play in? No one, that's who! Problem solved.

"_AGUAMENTI!"_ we shouted together. Jets of water shot from our wands in unison. From the other wand was a heavy focused torrent, from mine, a wide lighter spray.

We battled the flames silently, though the thunder of water and fire was so loud I couldn't hear myself thinking. Thinking came later, when the last flicker of flame had been doused, and, both soaked to the bone and grimy with smoke and ash, I turned to face my partner.

As I coughed, fighting for delicious air, all I could see were Sirius Black's intense gray eyes.

We stared at each other, gasping like fish out of water.

"You are a vision in black," he said simply.

I said, "Yes." It never crossed my mind to deny it, or what it meant that Sirius, of no modest popularity and influence, thought I was a vision in black. At the moment, I wasn't exactly thinking clearly.

"You have been in my Transfiguration class this entire time."

"Don't take it personally."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes as he started to speak again, but we were interrupted by a noise.

_HISSSSSSSSSS_ went the glowing remains of the wardrobe, and red hot embers were scattered into the air as a long gray streak with red eyes burst out.

I was grabbed roughly by Sirius, who wrapped his arms around me as the embers rained down. We stood like that, me stunned, him blocking out pain, until the hiss of the Ashwinder brought us to our senses.

"Don't let it lay any eggs!" I cried out unnecessarily, leaping forth with my wand.

"Protego!" yelled Sirius, as the large snake raised itself up, propelling a lethal wave of magic-intensified heat towards us, blocked by the shield charm.

"Stupefy!" The Ashwinder dropped suddenly to the side and my stunner missed.

I tried again, "_Stupefy!"_ as the serpent swept its powerful tail at Sirius, knocking him off his feet.

The red bolt of light hit it on the side, and it reared up again, shaking its head. The glowing red eyes focused on me, and I couldn't draw a single breath through the angry searing heat.

From the ground, Sirius cried, "_Relashio!"_ which knocked the snake backwards against the hard stone wall in a flash of fiery sparks.

"REDUCTO!" I shouted, just as Sirius bellowed out "_STUPEFY!"_ The combined spells blasted the Ashwinder into the air, and when it came down, it was still. The crushing heat disappeared with such a shock that I realized I hadn't been breathing.

As I took in air again Sirius slowly stood up. "Is it dead?" he asked.

"Let me sniff it—" I turned towards the Ashwinder just as it collapsed into swirls of dust.

"_Shit,"_ we said at the same time, and rushed towards the dissipating dust. Sirius vaulted over a scorched overturned chair, but I got there faster.

The collapse of the Ashwinder meant it had laid eggs. Eggs that were so flammable, they would ignite almost instantaneously and burn the room down around our heads.

As the dust cleared, I jumped into a pile of three red hot eggs, knocking a fourth to the side. The hem of my robes burst into flames as I shouted the Freezing Charm, encasing the eggs immediately in a blue frost. As I heaved a sigh of relief, a sudden intense white light, bursting out almost from under my feet, blinded me. Then it was gone, in its place another harmless frost-coated egg, under Sirius' outstretched wand.

"You just saved my life," I said, shocked.

The wand disappeared into his wet, torn, and soot-stained robes, and he extended a hand, which I gratefully clasped and used to climb out of the pile of ash and half-burned wood.

"Don't take it personally," he joked, making me smile. "Does this mean I finally get your name?"

"Oh, so you think I _owe_ you something now, Niche?" I mocked. "That's hardly fair."

"Niche?"

"That's what I named you in my head."

"Whatever you say, Risk."

"_Risk?_"

"Don't question me. I'm never wrong."

McGonagall burst into the room, took in our sorry sight and the blackened damaged remains of the classroom with one glance through her spectacles, then fixed her stern gaze on me and said, "Out. _Now._"

Without hesitation, I sprinted to the door of her office, disappearing just as half a dozen professors charged in behind McGonagall.

I had never realized until then just how much I loved that woman.

* * *

At the end of the day, Sirius was certain of three things.

First, _she_ was in his Transfiguration class. Had been, all along.

There was something wrong with his mind. It couldn't really focus on this revelation. It shied away every time he tried to think about it. His mind just didn't want to work.

Sirius suspected this was because there were some things, like this one, which were just too confusing that they hurt to think about. And his mind went into automatic self defense to spare him. The other option was that his mind was broken, and Sirius really really really hoped that wasn't the case. They said it was rather painful when things like that happened.

Second, the trick of filling the Transfiguration goblets with firewhiskey, a flammable liquid, had been told to Lester Abbott by a knowledgeable Seventh Year, though who exactly, Lester could not remember. And Renna Fuddle, with a reputation for cheating and not being exactly the brightest witch, who had started the fire, had found an scribble in the margin of her Transfiguration textbook for a stronger Vanishing Spell. It was not a Vanishing Spell at all, however, but instead conjured fireballs. Harmless showers of sparks, unless intensified by alcohol vapors.

Remus had almost died. Hell, Sirius _himself_ had almost died. It stank of conspiracy and sabotage, just like James' broken broom.

And third, he had absolutely no idea why Q was trying to kill them.

* * *

Author's Note: _O snap._


	16. The Chapter of BODY LANGUAGE

Author's Note: Love and cookies for BEN, GoodGirlzDead, QPS, Squid7000, Totally CRAZY!, swiftsword, Rapunzel, Cay, lostdreaming123, Ruffle, and ESPECIALLY Hollynn and Silentflier for sending me encouraging messages about updating :)

My excuse? Aside from college? ATTACKED BY MONSTERS! Also, I did make an effort... whilst studying for a physics exam I made a NTS post-it that said, ironically, "WHAT IS Q??" (something to do with driven oscillations you don't even want to know) and it somehow ended up next to the door in my room so I saw it EVERY DAY MULTIPLE TIMES and it made me finally sit down and write... yeah...

SO MUCH CREDIT TO MY PARTNER IN CRIME.  


* * *

SIXTH YEAR

"NO MORE SCHOOL!" I cheered as we spilled out into the courtyard. It was that moment when the last class ends and the holiday break begins. The evening would hold all sorts of wonders, in the form of the Winter Ball, before everyone departed on the train the next afternoon. Since this was actually the first class I'd attended all week, and the first class since the Ashwinder incident, I couldn't quite compete with the general air of giddiness and excitement among the students. But I was trying to fit in…. "WE'RE TOO COOL! BOYS DROOL! AND THEY SMELL BAD!"

"Crap," muttered Paul, after sniffing himself. "_Knew_ I should have washed this week…"

"You're embarrassing yourself," Amanda warned me. "You don't want to ruin your last day at Hogwarts by blowing all five point five years of hard work while you still have hours before you leave for good."

"Amanda! I thought we weren't going to talk about it! Now I'm going to cry… tears are forming, see? See right there?" Paul tossed his bangs aside and motioned towards the corner of his eye. "You can see them, right? Did they turn into rainbow flavored jelly beans?"

"Oh stop," I said. "I'm not leaving forever. And don't be silly, you aren't a dragon."

"Alex," Paul said seriously, grabbing my shoulders, "YOU COULD DIE. It's different out there — if you die outside Hogwarts you die _in real life_!"

"Please." I snorted, shrugging him off. "I haven't completed my bucket list. Like number eleventeen, steal the underwear of a samurai warrior, or number forty, find out what happens when James is feeling vulnerable and Seductful Lucius is seductful. So obviously I'm not going to die. I will be back once term starts again. After I've taken care of this little problem."

Amanda stared at me. Amanda's serious face was scary! I was afeared for my life. "_Dumbledore's_ been gone _months_ because of 'this little problem,' Alex. Do you really believe _you—"_

"I might have skipped classes for a week, but I finally found him, didn't I?"

"Yeah, while breaking about every school rule in existence_ and _a majority of Ministry laws!"

"So? Hanging out with that gang in Liverpool was _definitely_ worth it, once they promised to stop trying to stab me and I agreed to return Fluffykins."

"…Flufflykins?" questioned Paul.

"Some people just love little dogs. I prefer yellow labs myself."

Amanda threw up her hands. "Good lord, you're impossible to talk to."

But the drama wasn't over, apparently. Paul caught me in a big hug. "We're never going to see you again!" he sobbed.

"Oomf." My words were muffled by his chest. "If I really am going to die, before I leave tonight I gotta at least be able to check off the number one item on my bucket list, don't you think?"

"Which is?" whispered Paul.

"Kiss Sirius Black?"

He laughed heartily and hugged me tighter.

"What are you saying?" demanded Amanda.

"Nothing," I said innocently, as Paul released me.

"Suuuure. God, I can't wait for the Winter Ball tonight. Maybe it'll knock some sense into you."

"I don't see how that follows—"

"Shut up." She hugged me too. "Darling, if you die, I won't be worried, because the world will be saved from your schemings."

"What makes you think I won't have any influence beyond the grave?"

She looked afraid.

"JUST KIDDING!"

"Noyou'renot."

"Fineyoucaughtme."

We laughed nervously.

"Anyroad, I will catch up with you later. I happen to have a mission." I saluted them and escaped.

I found Sirius and Remus building a snowfort by the lake. It was a flimsy structure, not capable of withstanding a backside assault. After a cursory glance, I dismissed it.

They noticed me at the same time. Remus froze in place. Sirius snapped to attention in full salute. The snow that had been in his open hand waterfalled to the ground.

"At ease, gentlemen," I said. "Sirius, if you could give us a moment?"

Remus, who had been preparing to leave, stopped, confused. Sirius shot him a bewildered but accusatory look that clearly said DUDE WTF.

Remus's shrug replied DUDE I DUNNO?

DONT PLAY WIT ME!! wailed Sirius' eyebrows, raising and lowering threateningly.

I SAID I DUNNO!!! protested Remus' jawline as he shook his head.

Sirius looked offended. AND WHAT? AM I SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE YOU? WITH HER STANDING RIGHT THERE TAPPING HER FOOT IMPATIENTLY?

Remus's pinky: UM, _YES_!

The sweat on Sirius' brow: DO NOT RAISE YOUR PHALANGE AT ME IN THAT RUDE MANNER!

Remus getting sassy: YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK?!  
I THINK THE SWAGGER IS JUST.. COMPENSATION!  
YEAH THAT'S RIGHT I SAID IT!  
YOU KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT!!

Sirius face: :O

Remus: YES I KNOW I SAID SIZE DOESN'T MATTER SIRIUS BUT THAT'S WHAT YOU THINK SO THAT'S WHY I SAID…what do they say…THE BURN  
HURTFUL, WASN'T IT SIRIUS?  
WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT?  
WHY ARE YOU UNZIPP—  
NO I DO NOT NEED PROOF SIRIUS!!  
PUT THAT THING AWAY!!  
OMG MY EYES!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sirius: HAHA REMUS THEN WHY ARE YOU PICTURING IT? EVERY TIME YOU PICTURE SOMETHING LIKE THAT REMUS A FAIRY DIES. DIES!!!!  
I AM CLAPPING BECAUSE I BELIEVE REMUS!  
CLAP WITH ME. NOW!!!

Remus: YOU KNOW WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM? YOU THINK ONLY WITH YOUR FLESH.  
YES I DID MEAN P— I AM NOT SAYING IT SIRIUS  
NICE TRY  
I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE  
YOU THOUGHT YOU HAD ME, BUT I…ER…GOODNESS SHALL PREVAIL!  
AT THE END OF MOVIES IT'S THE BAD GUYS WHO END UP IN PRISON, SIRIUS  
WHY YES THEY WOULD NEED HANDCUFFS  
WHIPPED CR—  
HOW CAN YOU THINK THAT??  
THAT IS JUST  
I CAN NEVER EAT A SUNDAE AGAIN SIRIUS!!

THE POINT IS, Sirius stomped his foot, I KNOW THERE'S SOMETHING UP.  
DON'T LIE! TO ME!  
BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO LITTLE BOYS WHO LIE, THAT'S A PROMISE!!

Remus closed his eyes. SIRIUS… EW. JUST LEAVE. JUST LEAVE NOW.

Sirius, eyes never leaving my face, started backing away. He backed into a tree ten meters away and stopped. I shook my head. Without looking behind him, he shuffled to the right and backed up three more steps. I kept shaking my head. He hid behind another tree. I motioned him farther back. He leapt out from the tree, dived into a roll, and came up again behind another tree. It was impressive, but unsatisfactory. I crossed my arms. He backwards somersaulted ten more meters. I picked up some snow, wound up, and pitched it as hard as I could. Sirius sprinted and slid into base half a second before my snowball hit a tree thirty feet away.

I turned to Remus.

"I don't exist," I said.

"Well, if you don't mind me pointing out," he started politely.

A laugh escaped. "Actually I'm serious. I'm giving you an assignment."

"Assignment has multiple meanings…as long as it doesn't involve writing an essay or doing anything that could get me expelled, I'm in. I feel like with you I have to make these things clear."

"Don't worry. Listen closely."

He leaned in.

Lowering my voice, I said into his ear, "It's absolutely necessary that after I disappear tonight, you make everyone believe I was never here." I emphasized, "_Everyone._"

He broke away quickly to face me. "After…you…disappear?"

"Chances are large that I do not return to Hogwarts after the holiday break." I didn't explain further. He didn't need to know that it wasn't just Hogwarts that I might not return to.

"If you… you do understand that you can't do that to him?" Remus studied me. "No, I don't think you do…"

"Look, it wouldn't matter anyone else, but it's the kind of person he is. He is a liability. He would ask questions."

"I don't understand you, and I don't think I ever could."

"But do you accept?"

"Maybe, but for purposes different than yours, I think."

Whatever. The important part was that Sirius didn't go around causing scandals and sullying my good name in the eyes of Hogwarts. Any disappearance of mine would occur like my life, dammit… unnoticed! Or, in revenge, I would return and haunt the school from the scariest place possible… a toilet!

The back of my neck itched. I whirled around and pointed sternly at my snowball marked tree. Sirius sheepishly came out from behind a tree closer to us and, dragging his feet, went back to his base.

Seriously, Remus said, "One condition."

I waited.

"You can't make this any more impossible for me than it already is. No more contact with him. Not now. And definitely not tonight at the Winter Ball."

"That's the only condition? I agree, and you wield that enormous influence of yours to make him forget?"

"I'll do everything in my power, yes. But it might not work."

"Remus Joaquin Lupin, if you do everything in your power, you are going to succeed no matter what." It's true, isn't it? One of life's little facts.

"Thank you. But what makes you think my middle name is Joaquin?"

"Remus J. Lupin? Isn't it obvious?"

"…Obviously NOT Joaquin!"

"Remus Joaquin Lupin, don't argue with a lady!" shouted Sirius from his far away tree.

Remus and I froze. "There's no way he can hear us!" exclaimed Remus.

"You _did_ raise your voice," I pointed out.

"You should be more concerned about this. He could have heard… everything!"

"He didn't hear. He's always believed your middle name was Joaquin."

Remus groaned. "There… there are so many things wrong in that statement, I can't even process…"

Patting his shoulder consolatorily, I said, "Well, see you at the Ball tonight. I gots places to be."

"Ahem," he coughed.

"I MEAN," I corrected myself, "see you NOT at the Ball tonight. In fact, see you NEVER AGAIN."

"That's more like it!"

"Gasp! Is that your normal response in tearful situations like this? I thought you were the nice one!"

He laughed. "Sirius is lucky he got first dibs on you."

"Remus!" I was shocked. "You did not just hit on me! James and Sirius have been corrupting you, haven't they? Live above the influence, Remus! Above the influence!"

Chuckling, he apologized. "And your word? About tonight?"

"I solemnly swear that I will not have contact with Sirius ever again, and extra especially at the Winter Ball."

My word choice startled him a bit. I gave him an innocent reassuring smile, and, true to my word, left without another glance at a certain someone who was currently on the ground, crawling on his elbows towards us, trying to be sneaky.

I mean, I didn't know any of that, because I definitely didn't look back. I'd promised!

Shit. Okay.

Generally, I'm good at solving problems. But this is THE BIGGEST CONUNDRUM I have ever encountered: how does one steal a kiss from the guy one has promised to have no contact with?


	17. The Chapter of Things That Go Bump etc

Author's Note: Wasn't supposed to be put up this early, but I decided to cut the original chapter in half so I could keep lengths consistent. Enjoy the holiday present!

Dedicated to: Silentflier, Ruffle, Flicka200, WaveMasterYami, Joelle8, lostdreaming123, Melissa Ford, QPS, Squid7000, Hollynn, madpoet08, Quirkyfire, and the two without names (but loved nonetheless. Maybe Voldemort would have turned out differently had he been one of my reviewers).

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

One of the benefits of being a wizard: it's MUCH easier to do things anonymously.

Proclamations of love, for instance. Classroom pranks. Charity donations. Egregious accusations. Money laundering.

The first of these examples, however, is what concerns us. Think of all the creative ways magic could be used to deliver a secret admirer note!

Which is why the bouquet of roses attached to a lovely card sitting on the table in front of Amanda, delivered by her owl during our clandestine after hours dinner in the Kitchens, showed a significant lack of imagination. Supper in the Great Hall had been canceled, as it was currently being prepared for the Winter Ball. Meals were instead available in the respective House common rooms in the form of a buffet table. But I was not going to stand in line forever just to plop some coleslaw and soggy meat onto a paper plate. My daily pudding was _absolutely necessary _for life and the continuation of order. Which is why, as soon as we'd stepped into the kitchens, a house elf had handed me a cup of pudding. Because they cared. About me. And my menacing manner.

Enough about the pudding. It was almost all eats up, anyways. The current item of interest was this anonymously signed card which was _quite_ upsetting.

There was a moment of silence, soon broken by Amanda's warning tone. "Alex, don't you _dare_."

I stared at her. "You're not serious."

"Deadly."

"But… _why?"_

She sighed. Rather dramatically, actually. "It's just… romantic, you know? And… I don't really want to… ruin… that."

This confused me. Amanda was not one for romance. She didn't sigh over guys who held doors open for her or swoon or dream about fairy tale weddings and she _definitely_ was not to sort who needed rescuing or any of that jazz. She just _assumed_ the door would be held open, because that's what always happened for confident young women like her.

Wait, was she having trouble forming sentences? EVEN MORE CONFUSING. Well, considering some guy had just anonymously asked her to the Ball tonight, _maybe_ she had reason to be a little bit affected.

But the important point here was, why didn't she want me to find out _who it was?_ She knew I could get that info in a jiffy! Really, easy stuff. And I wasn't buying her play with the romantic card.

"You know I don't believe you," I said matter-of-factly.

Fluffing the roses, she mumbled, "I thought… maybe… it would be kinda nice… to have a bit of mystery for a change?"

Lies, all of it!

"Fine," she snapped suddenly, straightening up and putting her hands on her hips. Thank god she was acting normal! "Yes, you think this is totally not like me. And you're way confused. I can read you like a book, Alex."

Yes. Yes she can. How embarrassing!

"So here you go. We both know that things like this don't happen without turning out to be that creepy Fourth Year with the naked mole rat and Napoleon complex. So why waste our thoughts and energy on him? These are our last few hours to have fun before you dive after Dumbledore into danger and probable death. I say we live and let lose! Put up our hair, don our gorgeous dresses, dance the night away, and we'll dominate this guy's stupid riddles, find and meet him, take him down a notch or two, and cackle evilly when he runs away in tears!"

"Only if we do it with mad flair."

"Psh. That's a given."

Ah. In that case, what a rousing speech! I threw my hands up and cheered.

"Thank you, thank you!" Amanda bowed, eyes sparkling.

Ha. I didn't believe a word of it. She was showing a level of relief indicative of a person who had just come up with a perfectly plausible excuse. As soon as the moment arrived, I was DEFINITELY slipping away quietly to investigate the identity of this mystery suitor.

Amanda picked up the flowers and dusted a few crumbs off the table. "I'll meet you in the Lair in a few, alright? There's something I have to do."

"Ten-four." Perfect. The moment had arrived.

After we parted, Amanda heading off in the direction of the nearest bathroom, I ran to Gryff Tower as fast as I could, and burst in on Paul having a nap in the Lair… snuggling with his left shoe….

"GRAB A SPORK! MAN THE BATTLESTATIONS!" he shouted, startled awake, as I dove towards a soup ladle of Regardiun that took me to the West Tower stairs leading up to the Owlery.

Ten minutes later, Paul had another heart attack when he was woken up a second time by Amanda throwing her roses at him as she entered. "Security breach!" he gasped, drowning in petals. And I, lounging in a chair innocently drinking some tea and finishing up a late essay assignment, had the name of her secret admirer.

It was my dear friend, Remus Joaquin Lupin.

"Forget that!" Amanda swatted the quill out of my fingers. "The Winter Ball starts in an hour! It's prep time, bitches!" She dragged me and Paul out and into the Gryff common room, where it was absolute chaos.

Seriously. The pre-dance chaos. Not only was there a very liberal distribution of bottles of something suspiciously bubbly, but Gryffs of all shapes (skinny, round, triangle), sizes (tall, grande, vente), genders (male, female, not inclined to state), and levels of panic or desperation were running around, trying to find someone with an extra tie/pair of heels/mandate (and not the law kind). Pockets of boys slouched in corners, trying to hide as girls pounced on them with a "You there! Does this make me look…!" I had to duck to avoid a flying bracelet. Someone whistled and the bracelet returned to them, like a good little boomerang. Aw I want one. Maybe someday, when my life has a bit of stability, I'll adopt.

Thought! Maybe Amanda was in love! And she was taking the opportunity to pretend mystery man was him, if only for an hour! Until the horrible truth was revealed!

Because, seriously… _Remus?_

This small shindig of Ball was looking to become terribly complicated.

Hmm… it would help my side of things greatly if the Marauders were distracted somehow. Or didn't have full manpower…. Scanning the room, I found exactly what I needed. James and Lily arguing in the corner. Angry, she spun around to leave, but he grabbed her arm to stop her. James' date, Renna Fuddle (aka Ashwinder girl) was standing on the girls dormitory staircase, watching them with a look of annoyance.

"Paul," I whispered. "Go to your dormitory and find Mason Grigg. Get him down here."

Grabbing the nearest half empty bottle of the bubbly, I pretended to clumsily climb the stairs. "Oops," I giggled, as I pretended to realize that Renna was blocking my way. She looked down at me, irritated. "Hey! Aren't you going to the Ball with James Potter?"

"Do I know you?"

"Whoopsie!" I bumped into her as I tried to pass. "You are sooooo lucky! Everyone thought he asked Lily but—" I leaned in conspiratorially, accidentally smacking her with my bottle "—Lucinda Layflower said you were his second choice!"

"Second choice?" She narrowed her eyes.

"I guess it all worked out!" I continued happily. "You go with James, Lily goes with Mason, who is soooooo the hottest guy in Gryffndor, as _everyone_ knows. How lucky is she! I mean, you are lucky too, with James and all, but Phoebe Edwards totally kissed him once and she says his breath smells like onions! And Mason…" I sighed wistfully, "All those Chaser muscles from Quidditch—Which James doesn't have at all, it's sooo disappointing… bloody hell is Lily the envy of every girl in Hogwarts! And she's like, waaay super pretty, they're sooo perfect together!"

"Mason asked _me_ first and I only said no because James—" she stopped, and looked back at James and Lily, who were practically pulling each other's hair out. "Whatever. Lucinda can talk about _this!_" And she stalked off down the stairs, screeching "JAMES POTTER, LEARN ABOUT MOUTHWASH!" Silence fell as everyone paused to stare at her and her bucket o' crazy.

Paul was pushing a very confused and half dressed Mason Grigg into the common room. Renna pounced on him, and with a last glare at Lily, kissed him viciously.

Peering over at the two in question, I could see Lily was completely shocked. James, however, like the good boy I was depending on, took advantage of the situation, and said something in her ear. Lily nodded automatically and James let out a loud whoop.

Grinning, I turned back up the stairs. James was officially out of the picture for the entire Ball.

As I always say, three Marauders are better than four.

And it obviously follows that two are better than three. And one better than two. And none at all better than—REDUNDANCY. Must you always defeat my fantastic line deliveries!

The madness was worse in our dorm than downstairs. There were shrieking girls _everywhere_. This was bad. Now the monster under my bed would be scarred for life, go into isolation, and then no one would ever believe me about his existence. Distress! The situation calls for an emoticon! D:

MONSTER I WILL PROVE YOU REAL IF ITS THE LAST THING I DO! YOU ARE NOW NUMBER ONE ON THE BUCKET LIST, MONSTER. YOU DID IT! #1! GOLD STAR!

Out of the mayhem Amanda grabbed me and pulled me to the side. She was livid. "Where have you been?" she hissed.

"Got tangled up in a fight over a tiara on the stairs," I said smoothly. "Finally had to blast out of there with that Kalashnikova spell."

She didn't question. _That's_ how chaotic things were in the dormitory.

"Hey, you didn't happen to hear any weird noises from my bed, did you? Like… growling… or whimpering…"

That earned me an eye roll. "_Not_ your imaginary monster again! So I checked on the girls in other Years. The majority color seems to be silver."

"Of course it would be, for the Winter Ball." I sighed. Silver was tiresome. I was not looking forward to wearing it.

"Here you are. I took the liberty of grabbing everything." Amanda piled dresses and shoes into my arms. "Now _let's get out of here!_"

I agreed completely, and we escaped.

Safely ensconced in the Lair, I shimmied into something black, strapless, short, and sexy as Amanda applied her make up. Paul entered in his classy black and white dress robes, frowning down at his tie. "Alex, I can't get this Cross knot to work—_aarg! My eyes! Naked women!"_

Amanda chuckled as she put on lipstick in her pocket mirror.

Rolling my eyes, I commanded, "Zip me." As he complied, uncomfortable, I continued. "Forget the Cross knot. You want something large and in charge. You want a _Windsor_." The thought of wearing a knot described in this manner made him look pale. I had to stifle a giggle.

I fixed his tie before pulling on the second gown, this one being silver, floor length, and utterly average. I'd look just like every other girl in the room. And even more unremarkable, because silver was not a flattering color on me. Paul gave me an odd look. "Not that I'd know, but do girls always wear two dresses?"

"Nope. I got into the habit after the Vienna opera last summer."

Amanda glanced over, ears metaphorically perked. "That date with Lucius Malfoy?" Her voice sounded weird.

"Yeah, it was sooo romaaaantic," I slurred. "Especially when we kissed under the fireworks and he waited_ three whole minutes_ before going after the champagne waitress!"

"You _kissed?"_ Amanda whirled around.

"What? _No!_" I grimaced. "It's a joke. Obviously. What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing," she said. "Nerves, I guess."

"Um, okay." I ripped the seam of the silver gown so that I could reach through to the pocket of the little black dress, and deposited my wand there. Fortunately there was enough silver material to hide the hole.

Amanda mourned the destruction. "Can't you just carry a pocketbook like a normal person?"

"Easy access! Always be prepared! What if someone tries to force me to do something against my will!"

"Please. And who's gonna do that."

"Umm, ENEMIES??"

"AHH!" Paul jumped up on a chair, brandishing the long end of his tie. Which was still around his neck. "_We have enemies?? WHERE?"_

"Behind you!"

As he spun around and lashed out at shadows, I turned to the sane friend. "P.S., Amanda," I said, "You're on your own at the beginning of this thing."

"_On my own?_"

"Can't be seen together until after naked mole rat boy cries and runs away."

"Am I allowed to know why?"

I considered. "Do you trust me?"

She gave me a Look. "Fine. But you agreed to help me solve the riddles."

"They can't be that hard!"

She pulled the card out of her pocketbook and read out loud. "'Three, six, or twelve arguments.' As if I understand that!"

"A snowflake."

"How—"

"Thats how many points they are allowed to have. It's a Winter Ball, there's sure to be snowflake decorations."

"Aaaand this is why I need you."

Flattering. "How about this. We'll establish a system of communications, beast through these clues, and have a disappointed lover boy in no time at all."

"Lovely! Knew I could count on you, Alex!" Amanda uncharacteristically hugged me.

Whatev. No time to question it. I had bigger problems. Remus was going to be keeping an eye on Amanda the moment she walked through those doors and started his riddle hunt. So obviously, keeping my distance from her was essential. If it really had been the naked mole rat who had sent the flowers and card, there would have been no problem. But it being Remus opened up a whole new can of worms. I couldn't take the risk.

_What the hell kind of game was Remus playing?_ And how much exactly did he know?

It just didn't make any sense. Remus was smart. Sensible. Uncomplicated. Honest. He would stick to the deal, and expect me to do the same. Him asking out Amanda meant that he was drawing me closer to him and by transitive property, closer to Sirius. Which was exactly opposite of what he wanted. _So what was going on?_

Well… Remus alone didn't think in terms of plots and traps and entanglements, but the collective group mind of the Marauders did. They had to be behind this. And Remus knew definitively of my existence, but the Marauders certainly did not. Their information would come from Sirius, who had no clue of my connection to Amanda or Paul.

Occam's Razor. There was a simple explanation. Remus asking out Amanda actually _was_ Remus asking out Amanda. He saw a girl, she was cute, and since he was shy, romantic, and a Marauder, no shit sherlock that a plan of anonymity, roses, and riddles was created. Completely coincidental was her relation to me.

Too bad I didn't believe in coincidences.

* * *

Author's Note: Only a teensie bit of dramallama but I'm giving you a mental break before Shit Goes Down in the next chapter...


	18. The Chapter of Oh Snap!

Author's Note: First off, thank you QPS, angharad xoxo, Ruffle, Silentflier, and kimmmz for helping me reach 100 reviews! How exciting!

NOW EVERYBODY LISTEN UP. You need to read this chapter slowly and word for word. DON'T skip ahead or it will be ruined! NO SKIPPING AHEAD! Reviews are open for spoilers, like always, but I'm going to ask you, if you ever recommend Alex and her adventures to other readers, please please keep them unspoiled.

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

The Great Hall was completely transformed into a silver and white winter wonderland. Sparkling icicles hung from the ceiling, the orchestra was backed by snow dusted silver firs, and there were blue and gray drapes everywhere. Twinkling candles and ice sculptures created a magical atmosphere. It was snowing in large gentle flurries which disappeared well before reaching the heads of the elegantly attired occupants, who chatted pleasantly, mingled, or danced.

The doors were thrown open and the Ball spilled out onto the stairs and even outside, where the steps of Hogwarts had been lined with evergreens and fireflies. It was loud, the air full of the gasps and giggles of those who were stealing a moment of the refreshing chill night.

Absofruitly gorgeous. People were pushing behind us, trying to enter. "Amanda, you go first." And I nudged her down the stairs. She turned and gave me a glare before continuing. Once there were enough bodies in between us, Paul and I followed into the Great Hall, between two ice sculptures of smiling men done in the Italian style. By which I mean bulging muscles and strategically placed holly.

_There_. In the northwest corner, with their own perfect view of a brilliant floating snowflake. The Marauders. Sitting on a silver draped table, as if they were holding court. And they were, I guess. The press of the crowd was densest there, as admirers went up to the Marauders to chat or, in the case of all females, hope to be asked to dance. (Especially since, gasp, two of them seemed to be unhindered by dates! Hello, opportunity!) The whole dynamic of the party, I could see now, revolved around them. All the flows of migration focused on this one table. Peter and his date, a short, plump sweet looking Puff, wandered into the middle to dance, and the other dancers obliged by swirling around them until they were the middle, the focus, of the dance. Sirius, James, and Lily traded wits, laughing and clinking their glasses together to mark notable comments. Remus alternated between greeting and exchanging niceties with their subjects, and watching Amanda sashay over to that giant snowflake, pluck off a small scroll of paper, and roll it out in her fingers.

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked Paul, linking my arm in his.

"Twenty-one hundred hours!" he announced, proud. "Did I get it right?"

Laughing, I said, "I meant metaphorically," and nodded at the dance floor.

"Are you challenging me to a DANCE-OFF?" he said excitedly.

"Good god, no! I don't think you would survive being defeated!"

Paul jabbed his elbow into my side and I collapsed, giggling. "Oh yeah? You can't even stand up straight!"

"Shut up and ask me to dance, fool."

"Never!" he declared, and led me onto the dance floor.

Gotta love that boy.

As we spun around, Amanda's voice cackled into my ear via our magically linked earrings. "Alex? I have the second clue?"

"Ouch!" I winced. "Don't talk so loud!"

"Sorry. Are you ready? 'Poisonous reputation.'"

"I wasn't ready! You blew our only chance!"

"What?"

"Just kidding. See that cascade of red poinsettias on your far left? It'll be somewhere around there."

"What kind of — nevermind." She darted over to the poinsettias. "Aha! Next one. 'Murder takes two.' Why are these all so distasteful? Arguments, poison, now murder?"

She had a point. It was odd. And far from the romantic game it was supposed to be.

Murder takes two…

"OTZI!" I cried, startling Paul.

"Gesundheit," he offered.

"Otzi the Iceman! Italian Alps, Copper Age. The world's first murder victim. Death by arrowhead. Amanda, check out those two ice statues at the front entrance, wearing the holly."

Paul eyed them. "I wouldn't really classify that as 'wearing,' which gives the false impression of clothing."

I whistled. "Never thought you'd be the authority on naked men."

"Hey! Not fair—"

"Got it!" Amanda broke in excitedly. "Something about a full moon? Hang on, it's torn in half. I'll check the other statue."

Laughing at the irony, I told her, "Just go to the table in the northwest corner."

"HOW did you get that from this clue—"

"That's where he's waiting. Just one favor in payment for solving these for you — tell him, 'I could see where this was going.'"

"Um…"

"We're skipping a few unnecessary steps. This makes that possible. Trust me." _Now I'm in charge of this game, you silly Marauders. I still don't understand what you're doing but I feel a hell of a lot better now that I have some control. See how _you_ like being thrown for a loop!_

Amanda snorted and went radio silent as she approached her quarry.

"This will be good," I informed Paul, who was twisting his head around, trying to get a visual on the northwest corner. Unfortunately for Paul, his sense of direction was off, as he seemed to think north was _up._ It took him a few moments to realize that there was something wrong with his method, but he recovered quickly by pretending like it never happened, and once again found Amanda, who was fighting her way through the crowd to get to the corner.

They both realized at the same time. Paul stumbled on his own foot, caught himself on my arm, and almost ran us into three different couples. I got cursed out by a tiny eleven-year-old with poofy hair that almost made her as tall as my waist.

Amanda was a bit more dignified. "Alex!" She whispered accusingly. "_That's_ not naked mole rat boy."

"Don't judge, Amanda. Remus is allowed to have naked mole rats if he wants."

"ALEX! I _asked_ you to leave Anonymous alone!"

"Technically, you never said so out loud…"

"Ugh! You're IMPOSSIBLE!" There was a _fizz crackle POP_ as she yanked out her earrings and threw them underfoot.

"OW!" _Damn_ that was loud! I had to pull my own earrings off quickly or suffer as Amanda's earrings were repeatedly kicked across the floor by the crowd, sliding in all directions.

Well. I had prepared for several scenarios, but none of them included my agent defecting. And she recovered quickly, it seemed. I watched Amanda confidently push through as Remus hopped off the table and greeted her with a grin. It didn't seem to affect him that she had appeared somewhat earlier than expected, dammit — wait — it was fast and hard to catch, but Remus' eyes flickered briefly at Sirius for one unsure second— ha HA! Got you, boys!

My own eyes slipped over to Sirius automatically, and before I could mentally smack myself away, I realized that I had failed Rule Number One. Always ALWAYS always pay attention to your surroundings.

This affair with Remus and Amanda — enthralling as it was — had been distracting me from something huge.

Sirius, tie casually loosened and collar popped, lounging back on the table with his weight on his arms and feet propped up on James' chair, was chatting with a sleek and sophisticated Lucius Malfoy, who had a drink in one hand and a gorgeous Cissa Black on the other.

I repeat. _Sirius and Lucius._

SIRIUS AND LUCIUS!

Two who do NOT, under any circumstances, EVER have something so mundane and civil as a 'chat.'

My hand slipped to my wand and I muttered the spell that would amplify my hearing.

"—As good as any," spoke Sirius.

Lucius said, "Then shall we? I'll even give you the honors—"

"Oh no," Sirius interrupted smoothly. "You're mistaken. Not me. James is handling this one." He slipped a hand down onto James' shoulder. James gave Lucius a smirk that clearly said _bring it on, bitch._

Lucius graciously raised his glass to James. "How delightful," he drawled.

"Five minutes," said James, dismissing Lucius and turning back to Lily, who had been trading veiled insults with Cissa.

After nodding at Sirius, Lucius got Cissa's attention and directed her away.

"Getting more drinks," Sirius announced and hopped down to start off in the direction of the drinks and food.

I couldn't see him anymore once he was lost in the crowd. "_Dagnabbit._" Paul spun me to the edge of the floor and I reached into the mass of bodies and grabbed a very familiar hand. "Lars! Perfect! Take my place?"

Shoving the flustered girl into Paul's arms, I dove into the crowd after Sirius. Hard going. There were too. Many. People! Squeezing through, I finally spotted him lifting drinks off the table. But I couldn't get any closer. Bodies enclosed me and I was practically suffocating in perfume and aftershave. The sensation was odd — my talent lay in blending with large groups of people, not fighting them.

There was some commotion in the background. I vaguely heard a voice that sounded an awful lot like Lucius Malfoy say,_ "Excuse me everyone, if we could have your attention please." _Was I imagining it?

An elbow jabbed into my eye as someone raised their arm to take a drink, knocking me down.

"_It may surprise you, to see me standing before you with the infamous James Potter. Yes, you've lived with our rivalry for years, in the shadow of our endless competition. I know I can count half of you among my dearest supporters. As for the other half, well, you hang onto every word of the likes of Mr. Potter here. But let me tell you a story about a bet we made, ladies and gentlemen."_

I grabbed the nearest legs to support myself. One of them kicked out at my head, shaking me off, and leaving a sharp pain above my right eyebrow.

"_A bet created during the summer, as long ago as that was. A bet that will resolve once and for all just who is entitled to the power of Hogwarts. The winner is your savior. The loser is doomed by failure to obscurity and humiliation." _

Arg! I struggled, trying to break free. My heel got caught in someone's dress and I hopped awkwardly to keep my balance, pounding my fists on a Sly's back. "Let me through!"

"_We bestowed on ourselves a mission. All year we've each endeavored to be the first to bring you the results."_

It didn't occur to me as I kicked and struggled until it was too late — the pressure reached critical mass and I was propelled out forcefully, crashing painfully into the table next to Sirius.

_Curses!_

My deal with Remus! I gave my word that I wouldn't have contact with Sirius! I _solemnly swore! _And here I was, inches away, out in the open, making a fool of myself.

Life really really hates me. I must have the worst karma in the world.

Grabbing some leafy table decoration and holding it in front of my face, I said, attempting to distract him, "Oh dear! Mistletoe!" just as he looked down at me.

_Shit! Mistletoe!?_

At least he couldn't see who I was. _I'm trying, Remus! _Sirius chuckled throatily in a way that said he was clearly admiring the parts of my body not currently covered by mistletoe. "Unconventional of you to bring your own," he said, voice deep enough to make my knees quiver a little. "Luckily I'm not one to ignore the power of mistletoe." He reached out and gently tried to pull the mistletoe from my fingers.

"_At midnight, our respective findings will be revealed. And a winner will be decided."_

I panicked and held on tight. He paused for a moment, surprised by the tug-o-war, and laughed. "My dear, you do know what happens next, right?"

Suddenly, he yanked the mistletoe out of my hands and tossed it aside, and I — doing the only thing I could think of to hide my face — simultaneously grabbed his tie and yanked his head down. My mind, reeling, screamed _NO CONTACT ALLOWED!_ But the loophole — we never specified no _physical_ contact, and this was the only way to save the greater goal and had absolutely nothing whatsoever I promise really I do with that tricky number two item on my bucket list—

As his lips crashed down on mine, I heard the words that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

"_At midnight, we will expose the identity of the elusive Q."_

I shoved Sirius away.


	19. The Chapter of Serial Killers

Author's Note: Let's see. The people I love today are: hotncold93, QPS, BEN, Becca S., kimmmz, angharad xoxo, Cerridwen-Maiden, weatherwitch, Silentflier, and Squid7000! Because you guys all rock!

So without further ado please read on, so I can stop feeling so horrible about my wicked use of cliff-hangers.  


* * *

SIXTH YEAR

Blackness. A strange roaring in my ears. An inability to focus on my surroundings.

I'd never experienced this sensation before. Disbelief. Shock.

NO. This was wrong. Wrong! Shock did not happen to me! I was very very familiar with shock — in the sense that I had spent my life perfecting the art of _inducing_ shock in _other_ people.

Was this what the masses felt? When they were shocked? How did they survive? I had no idea it was this awful! I mean, I always knew it was disrupting, but this heart-wrenching gut-twisted hole in my chest? Hot _damn!_

This kind of shock was not healthy for a girl who lived by that survivor motto….

Outwit, outplay, outlast.

I was just outwitted, outplayed, and, in about two hours (_of course_ at the stroke of midnight), I would be destroyed. Wrecked. And most definitely outlasted.

There was a good chance not even my good ole friends wiles and craftiness could get me out of this one.

There was a snap next to my ear and slowly my blurry vision focused on an outline with frizzy tendrils.

"You ARE real!" I said dreamily. "They'll have to believe me now!"

"Alex? Alex!" tuned me in to an anxious female voice.

"Hello Lars," I said sadly, realizing the outline was hers and did not, as originally thought, belong to the monster under my bed.

Something fleshy and warm lifted from my wrist. "She'll be fine," declared Paul, although there was a significant note of worry in his tone. Apparently he had been checking my pulse? Whaaat?

And then I realized I was in Dumbledore's office, surrounded by what looked like the mess of a whirlwind in a library. Books had been ripped off all the shelves and now lay in a pile around me.

Standing up slowly, I tried to get a grasp on my bearings. "So! What are the haps, my friends?" I smiled at Paul and Lars.

They didn't seem convinced by my attempt at normality. I tried again. "And why do I feel like I've just been returned by the mothership that abducted me and created this mess?"

Paul put a hand on my arm. "Alex, that was you."

"_I_ did this? Oh dear." I looked down at the books again. From what I could see, they mostly lay open to sections on extremely illegal spells and descriptions of torture. It probably wasn't accidental.

Great. I black out for a few minutes and wake up to discover my subconscious is prone to fits of destruction and serial killing.

"Where's Amanda?" I asked.

"Still with Remus. She couldn't get away easily," Paul explained. "We followed you up here after the announcement."

Cheesesnaps and fizzlecakes. The _announcement._

"Luckily, the headmaster's gargoyle let us in without the password — I don't think the office liked what you were doing in here," Lars continued sheepishly.

"Paul?" I shakily looked up at him. "Does this normally happen to people when their world comes crashing down?"

He opened his arms and I fell into his soothing hug. "Alex, sweetie, most people's definition of their world crashing down involves their ex sleeping with their BFF, or failing their OWLS."

I laughed against his large and in charge tie. How utterly trivial!

"Considering yours is that you were metaphorically slapped in the face by the revelation that you _aren't_ privy to all of life's secrets, and someone actually managed — for the first time in living history — to pull one over on you… I'd say your case is a unique one."

I didn't want to hear this. Pulling away only worked until Paul fought back.

"Alex. Look at me. You're used to being the smartest person in the room."

"Oh, please."

"It's true. You always know what everyone's thinking, why they're thinking it, and any dirty little secrets that haven't seen the light of day. And those of us who know you," Paul glanced at Lars, who laughed affirmatively, "take it for granted that you always have a backup plan, because you see everything coming from a mile away, and nothing seems to surprise you—"

"Except for the single most important event of my existence?" I said softly.

"Oh, shit." Paul grabbed his hair. "Alex, I didn't mean it like that—"

"Don't worry, Paul. I got the message. Naive little Alex Moore, sitting on her high horse up on cloud nine, carefreely messing around with the lives of mortals in a world of no consequences? Well, she's crashed down in a flaming wreck. She _got the bloody message!"_ I spat.

"Alex—"

"Yeah, I'm _not_ the all powerful being I thought I was! That's painfully clear now. Oh so painfully clear!"

"Sarcasm won't—"

"Go ahead, keep rubbing it in! Enjoy the image of the omniscient Q with her face _stomped on in the mud! _Limited time, folks, while supplies last!_"_

Lars dropped the book on poisons she was perusing. "What?! Q? _You're Q?"_

"Congratulations, it's your lucky day! You've passed level six clearance, allowing you access to information _two whole hours_ before it becomes public common knowledge!"

"ENOUGH!" bellowed Paul.

I was shocked into silence. This shock thing had better not be becoming a habit.

"I'd love to let you continue your breakdown-slash-tantrum, really I would." He pushed me down into the chair I hadn't realized was behind me, and jabbed a stern finger in my face, "But bigger things are at stake, and if you would stop and just _think_ for _one moment, _you'd see that — aside from it being completely backwards that _I'm_ the mature one here — the only foolproof way to ensure that everyone downstairs right now comprehends the identity of Q _is if you keep carrying on like this!_ And I, for one, am _not_ willing to let you throw away five years of my life just because you're so intent on destroying yours!"

_Hell _he had a point. I put my face in my hands, feeling deflated.

Paul dropped to his knees. "_God, _Alex, I'm so sorry."

"No, you're right," I admitted. "Completely right. I'm being unfair and bitchy and—"

"Alex, no. I'm sorry this is happening. I'm sorry we didn't catch it. I'm sorry we were fooled. And I'm sorry that I can't protect you — the one time you've ever needed protection! — from the hard lesson that us with normal upsetting civilian lives had to learn a long time ago about mistakes."

I sighed. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

He said gently, "The worse things are, the greater the experience earned from them in the end."

Goodness, that was deep. It took me a moment to wrap my head around. And then I saw the light.

I stood up. A thought occurred to me. "You know, in a way, it's kind of amusing…"

Paul chuckled, sounding relieved. "You can say that again! _Malfoy_ and the _Marauders_ managed to fool us? After all those hours of surveillance on those incapable wankers!"

Lars left off gaping at me to cautiously interrupt. "What's a Marauder?"

I grinned, my mojo returning. "Fill her in. On everything."

"_Everything?"_ Paul glanced at the confused girl.

"Honestly, after all our years trading favors, I'm surprised she didn't figure it out sooner. And if I'm going to wage war in the next two hours, I need all the troops I can get." I said, mind racing, strands connecting, plans forming.

"I have to admit I'm relieved." He smiled at Lars, who smiled shyly back. "And relieved about that look in your eye. Thinking about bringing out the heavy artillery?"

"You know me. I only play fairly when I have the winning cards."

"Oh good. First, you _never_ play fairly, and second, when you butcher Oscar Wilde quotes, I know for certain you're back to your normal ruthless conniving self!"

"Well. 'Quotation is a serviceable substitute for wit'. And look at you, dropping off names of famous Muggles as if you cared about the little people!"

"I do try." He grinned.

Ignoring my frenzied havoc-wrecking mess, we headed back to the Ball, as Paul explained things to Lars. And if I didn't notice all the amazed looks she was shooting me, well, it's because my mind was elsewhere.

"Lucius Malfoy and the Marauders? _You _fueled their rivalry? All this time?" She was astounded.

"Well." Paul shrugged. "Yes."

I broke in for the first time. "And ironically, we did so because we were trying to protect the students from them. By playing them off each other, they were distracted. Only now, of course, their rivalry is the source of all my problems, with Q caught in the middle."

Lars shook her head. "But Paul said the Marauders started a campaign to find Q after Halloween until you blackmailed them to give it up."

"So?" I tried to remember if Paul had told her what we had blackmailed them with. That part wasn't exactly our secret to share.

"So, if they had this bet since summer about who could successfully solve the mystery of Q, weren't they _already_ investigating _before_ the events of Halloween?"

I stopped. "Lars! You're a GENIUS!"

She blushed pink and stammered, "N-no-not really, it's just handy sometimes to have a fresh viewpoint on things…"

This was too exciting. I couldn't keep still so I spun in a circle. "You guys! I know how the Marauders were so provoked by Halloween! _They were desperate, and saw an opportunity to distract Q from their _real_ investigation!"_

"Huh?" Paul was confused.

"I know why they started the second investigation, the one we knew about!" This spinning was making me dizzy! _"It was an excuse to try a point blank trap, without arousing Q's suspicions in case it failed! Just a cover for the real thing!"_

"How—"

"I know the real reason they gave it up! _They knew Q would relax and hopefully let his or her guard down, making it easier for the Marauders to continue!"_

"Why—"

"I know exactly what was up with Remus and his secret admirer note and riddles! _It was a test!"_

"You—"

"_And_ I know that the Marauders do not, in any shape or form, know that I am Q!" I halted dramatically, watching giddily as the world continued to spin, but I didn't fall down. Unbalanced, yes. A new sensation, that I was sure I'd get used to with time. But so, _so_ far from falling.

"Alex." Paul finally got a word in. "Mind explaining how you know that?"

"Because," I grinned at them. "_The Marauders think that Q is Amanda."_

_

* * *

_Author's Note: *evil grin* What fun the last few chapters have been! So many special moments!


	20. The Chapter of the Secret Formula of Mud

Author's Note: Hi everyone, Merry Christmas, we haven't seen each other for a year? I missed you. Please don't eat me. You've all been incredibly supportive and understanding and instead of wasting more time, let's just continue on our journey!

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

"Initiating Operation Romeo Oscar Foxtrot Lima Mike Alfa Oscar!" I declared.

"Seriously?" said Paul. "Alex, I had more confidence in your genius 'Plan B' before learning that its codename was 'ROFLMAO'…"

This voice of dissent had to be shut down or we would never be team players. "Nobody likes a critic, _Paul_." Hm, maybe that was a little too harsh. It wouldn't be good to crush his confidence right before this essential mission. Must have the troops inspired. I geared up for some remedial ego stroking.

He snorted and patted me on the head.

Oh yeah, I'm a fearsome leader.

"So... Operation ROFLMAO... how is this supposed to solve everything?" asked Paul.

"Because," I explained, "we might not hold all the cards, but we have the higher hand. It will just take a few more… direct and personal threats to the Marauders that they will be exposed as Animagi and go to Azkaban unless they make the announcement that it was all a joke."

"So do we get to blackmail Lucius Malfoy too?"

"Don't be silly. We're going to kidnap him."

There was a pause. Then a shatter, because Lars' glasses had dropped right off her face onto the unforgiving stones.

"_Reparo_," said Paul with a wand swish as Lars directed her shocked expression down to her now unbroken glasses. "Really now, Alex, perhaps you could indulge your flare for the dramatic _without_ inducing casualties?"

"This is just my project management style," I protested. "Sorry, Lars."

"No problem?" she said uncertainly, wiping her glasses on her green dress. "But did you just say we're going to kidnap _Lucius Malfoy_?"

I beamed at her. "Goodness, what a brilliant idea! You are such a beautiful addition to this merry band!"

"I— uh, what?" she stammered.

"Play nice," Paul warned me. "On second thought, please don't play with Lars at all."

"Fine, Mr. Love Struck." They both gave me weird looks for that.

"May I ask _why_ we have to kidnap him? Instead of just blackmailing him like the others?" Lars asked curiously.

Her question called for a guffaw. "Honey, not even _I_ have that kind of dirt on Lucius Malfoy. You can't blackmail someone like him. I'm ashamed to say that I'm outmatched."

A slow clap interrupted me. Paul grinned. "You've become so humble in the last half hour. Amanda would turn up her nose and disinherit you!"

Ignoring him, I continued. "And when I'm outmatched, there's only one option... cheat."

* * *

Cheating took the form of a well aimed "_Stupefy!" _Lucius toppled over backwards. It was smooth and seamless. Everyone in the pressing crowd around the table of refreshments was too involved in staying upright themselves to notice.

Lars and I quickly stepped forward to hide his body with our sweeping gowns.

Cissa Black turned from the table, two glasses in hand. "Lucius, dear— oh, excuse me. I thought you were someone of consequence. Move, please."

We smiled at her. "He saw a pretty face in that direction,"I said sweetly, gesturing over to somewhere far, far away. "Why, how kind of you!" I relieved her of her extra glass and took a noisy sip.

The icy glare she gave us before she glided off, chin high and shoulders back, would have stung a lot more if it wasn't so obvious that she was thinking "How _dare_ they! Just who do they think they are!"

Just then, in that somewhere far, far away, Paul managed to waltz himself into an ice sculpture of a reindeer with flickering candles for antlers.

It wobbled. There was a gasp. It wobbled the other direction. There was a relieved sigh. It wobbled again and slowly... slowly... with everyone now watching...

I never saw what it slowly did, but when the crash came and all heads turned now towards somewhere far, far away, I whispered "_Wingardium Leviosa," _and Lars and I marched out of the Great Hall with the very unconscious body of a very kidnapped Lucius Malfoy.

True, my glory was somewhat dulled by Lars' steady stream of "What have I done, I'm going to die, oh my goodness, I can't breathe, my spleen, I can't believe myself, he's going to kill me, my life is over, I've never eaten a quesadilla..."

We got Lucius stashed some place dark, safe, and secure. With a little bit of luck, he'd even have some company. With regret, I paused long enough to pull out my special covert stash of lollipops from my trunk.

As we rushed back downstairs, I handed the special covert lollipops over to Lars, with strict special covert instructions. It took more time to brief Lars than it did with Paul or Amanda, but I schooled my face into patience. After all, she wasn't one of my trained agents. One had to be sensitive about these things.

Granted, in Third Year I had hosted a training camp for Paul and Amanda one weekend. _I _was professional, with my clipboard and whistle and everything, but _they_ just _had_ to mess everything up — Amanda had crossed her arms and _refused_ to crawl on her elbows through mud I had specially mixed all by myself — she didn't even appreciate all my efforts to find the Secret Formula of Mud — which has been secret for years, but I DID figure it out through extensive experimentation, and I just know my product, patent pending, will soon be in worldwide demand — AND she laughed at me when I showed up to Potions with mud on my nose AND she didn't tell me because "it was funnier that way" AND she pointed it out to EVERYONE in the class and they all laughed at me too! AND I only figured it out when my partner tried to SWAB MY FACE because Professor Slughorn told us that the soil ingredient for our Extra Potent Sodium Chloride Solution could be substituted with common mud. AND THEN Dumbledore made me write an apology letter to that stupid boy for breaking his arm in three places ("Dear Stupid Boy Who Is So Stupid I Won't Even Bother To Remember Your Stupid Name And I Hope That Teaches You, Sirius Black!") AND one to Professor Slughorn for being a Class Disturbance ("I have learned from my actions that violence is not appropriate classroom behavior and next time I promise to use my words and my indoor voice") even though I can't control my reflexes half the time! From that, Mom banned me from using Jiujitsu at Hogwarts. So then I was out of practice the next summer when we vacationed with the Malfoys in Indonesia and Lucius stole my water buffalo.

Amanda lost me my favorite water buffalo.

But Paul had gotten tangled up in his belay ropes on the Owlery and in his panic managed to pull down half the West Tower. And set the Giant Squid on fire, I don't even know how. _Simultaneously._

We never revisited Q Bootcamp. Executive decision starring me.

By now Paul was probably moving on to phase two of his mission. Lars was all set for hers. I just had to make a quick visit to a certain eagle named Raven, and then somehow get in touch with Amanda without blowing her cover. Curses, if only she hadn't thrown such a hissy fit and pulled off her comm earrings. Well, that was probably my fault… she did ask me to respectfully not interfere with her Anonymous, and I had decided to respectfully decline. Man, my ego was getting me into all sorts of trouble lately. It probably needed a time out. I mentally scheduled one for as soon as a dark corner presented itself.

* * *

There was another one! Peter was confused. Why was everyone around him eating some sort of candy on a stick? They looked so happy! It wasn't fair!

"Hey, you!" Peter grabbed the arm of a passing girl with weird hair. She almost choked on her own candy. Peter didn't feel sorry. "What is that? Where did you get it from?" he demanded.

"Ouch, that hurts!" she pulled her arm from his grasp. "It's a Perception Pop. They make you twice as smart for like, an hour! There are tons of them in the Ravenclaw common room, and their eagle is like, on strike or something, so just anyone can go in and grab some!"

Peter released her. This was perfect. Just what he needed to pass exams. No wonder those idiot Ravenclaws always seemed so smart! And the fools had been hiding this from the Marauders? No one hid anything this big from the Marauders! Except… maybe Peter would… and see the surprised look on Sirius, James, and Remus' faces when he beat then on their N.E.W.T.S! He looked around. His date was distracted, throwing herself at Sirius. Peter wasn't surprised, girls only ever dated him to get to the other Marauders. Maybe that was about to change. He took off.

Lars pushed up her glasses and watched him go, ecstatic at her success. She was just like a secret agent! This was definitely the coolest thing that had ever happened to her! And she hadn't been completely sure if Alex had been joking when she said, "Make sure Peter's there in a half hour, dead or alive. I don't care. Preferably not dead." So Lars was glad Alex had trusted her to this task. Realistically, she had probably saved Peter Pettigrew's life. Alex Moore, as the merciless Q, was super scary!

* * *

"Hey man, congratulations!" Paul put a hand on James' shoulder.

Confused, James turned away from Lily. "Eh, thanks?"

"Just saw the presentation, it looks amazing! Unfinished, but still. There's even a life sized photograph of your winning goal against Slytherin back in Second Year!"

"I was only twelve," James bragged to Lily, who gave him a disgusted look. He pretended he hadn't seen her and asked Paul, "So… what exactly are you talking about?"

"Your Quidditch award, of course!" Paul gasped. "Oh no, did you not know about it?"

"Of course I knew about it," James said quickly. "But what is this about the presentation?"

"Some Ravenclaw fangirl Prefect was put in charge of it. It's up in their common room. I saw it while picking up my date, she's a Ravenclaw. Hey, did you know they don't have a password like we Gryffindors do? How weird is that!"

Paul moved away, his place quickly taken by eavesdropping bystanders who were eager to jump in and congratulate James on the award. Paul got a chuckle watching James try to extract himself from his adoring fans while trying to come up with an excuse to slip away from Lily.

* * *

Skidding to a stop, I rejoined the throngs of happy and carefree students at the Winter Ball. Snow and laughter mingled together in the Great Hall, completely unaware of the dangerous and intricate games taking place beneath it all. I took a moment to consider the ten points of my situation:

1. I needed to talk to Amanda, desperately.

2. Amanda was currently spinning her way around the dance floor with Remus, with what looked like no intention of stopping anytime soon. She did not seem at all disturbed or shaken by the horrible announcement. Actually, judging by her look of intent, she was probably grilling Remus for everything he knew. Good girl. But it was odd that she hadn't tried to find me. Too odd... That decided it.

3. Something was up with Amanda.

4. And she was questioning Remus about Q and the bet, with no idea of the trap she'd fallen into or the danger she was in or how delicate everything was right now and how carefully it needed to be handled.

5. Now I _more_ than desperately needed to talk to Amanda. And have her get Remus to Ravenclaw Tower. Which reminded me.

6. With Lars, Paul, and Amanda taking care of Peter, James, and Remus, I was in charge of Sirius. However.

7. I had solemnly sworn to Remus that I would stay away from Sirius. Although.

8. Considering they had been planning a brilliant coup d'etat, Remus was now disqualified. I now no longer considered my word binding in that matter.

9. But it was tricky. One wrong move and Remus would think that I thought that something had changed. There was only one way it could be played to my advantage. I needed him to think that _Amanda_ wanted him to think that I thought that something had changed.

This was so thrilling I was about to metaphorically dance out of my pants.

And, OMG,

10. Did Sirius and I KISS?


	21. The Chapter of Dances and Willifred

Author's Note: *Cackle*

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

Let's take a moment to discuss the mysteries of life. Grapefruit. Long division. Multitasking.

Who the hell decided on the name GRAPEFRUIT, because damn boy, that was some quick thinking. Wouldn't it be nice to have at least a smidgeon of that ingenuity that made someone wake up in the morning and say Hey, Self, let's take a fruit that everyone knows and loves, like an orange, and use that name on another unknown fruit (that slightly resembles the first) to tap into an already existing and strong market and then make money all around, little to none effort required? It could be called Enormange, and there would be all sorts of accessorizing product options, like juice, and candies, and popsicles. But wait, Self, before you've made too much cash money, let's make more! What is the orange market missing? WINE. What do you make wine out of? GRAPES. Ad hoc, name unknown fruit after grapes, capture LARGER market. Brills!

Next, remember when your teachers were all, long division is applicable to real life, learn it now 9-year-old, or future DIE? And long division is like possibly the hardest obstacle a child must overcome because a) it doesn't make any sense and b) you do not see grown ups whipping out a paper and pen at the shop all like hold on, must long divide my prices. Guess what Miss Sally, I use a new kind of division in my adult life, it's called SHORT division aka the ÷ sign on my calculator. So… chew on that!

Lastly, long have I considered multitasking my forté. It's in my Top Five for Inventions of the Year. Oh, excuse me Professor, the snake I turned my stick into looks more like a vine because I was multitasking making sure the annoying Sly in the front got bitten by his viper, it's not lethal, probably. Why yes, I made a few spelling errors on my Charms essay, due to multitasking off the thick layer of dust that was encrusting my robes from that time I had to hide in the rafters when Lucius Malfoy interrupted me intercepting his mail in the Owlery.

But this time, somehow I had multitasked running from the law and maybe-or-maybe-not kissing Sirius Black. And now that I had a moment to think about it, it was bothering me a lot. A LOT! Is this what I've become? A girl who goes around kissing strange men willy nilly? A _femme fatale?_ But that would make Sirius the gruff detective — cynical but lovable — and me the heartless film noir villain, and that is incredibly backwards! I HAVE HEART! AND GRUFF! I DRIP WITH ALL THE GRUFF.

There was only an hour until midnight, oh fateful midnight, but that wasn't the only thing on my mind.

I was multitasking thinking about Sirius Black. And a certain branch of mistletoe. And me shoving him on his ass. And me hightailing it outta there.

But had he recognized me? _And_ _had there been kissage?_

Such a weird question. I mean, wouldn't you know whether or not you've gotten kissed? What kind of person can't figure that kind of thing out? I was definitely thinking too hard about this. With a grimace, I put two fingers on my neck and quickly established that my heart rate was not exactly at rest.

And then, without giving me time to clear my thoughts, how inconsiderate, the boy in question brushed past a group of girls giggling over one of the risqué ice statues, emerged from the crowd, and casually sauntered toward me.

How in the curses on curses did Sirius always appear absolutely everywhere at horribly inappropriate times! Add checking my own pulse to the list of embarrassing activities Sirius had caught me doing. A list which included sulking, pineapple dismemberment, and other general low points in my life.

"Don't worry," Sirius irritatingly assured. "It's perfectly normal for your heart rate to be elevated when you're in my presence."

I dropped my hand from my neck faster than Google Chrome and shot back, "I had an itch!"

"Knew I was finally getting under your skin," he retorted easily.

I was starting to hope that there had been no recognition.

"But really, the mistletoe trick? So disappointing. I thought you'd want a more original kiss."

Hope was killed. "That wasn't—"

"Of course not. Our first kiss is going to be _much_ more awesome."

I burst out a chuckle. "Oh, that's cute. You think—"

"Laugh all you want, but I have so many things going for me right now, it's not even funny." He gave me that confident smirk. "This is the kind of night where I win. And then I get the girl."

I chose not to inform him that in this case, his opponent WAS the girl. So obviously things would not be going according to script.

He offered me the crook of his arm. "And on that subject, I'm collecting on our deal."

Deal? What deal? Was he making things up again — Oh. I vaguely remembered promising him a dance during another one of those low points of my life.

What amazing foresight past Alex had in making this deal! Her solutions were so relatable to my contemporary problems! This was a chance to get close to Amanda. With a haughty look and nary a word, I accepted.

Sirius seemed surprised, and he started to speak. I quickly shushed him and whispered steamily, "Just dance." This seemed to confuse him into silence.

* * *

"Quite a stir," Amanda commented, watching Remus carefully.

The clean-cut Gryff pushed her away, then pulled her close. "You feel stirred?" His eyes were focused on her face.

She ignored his flirting. "You can't actually believe you can beat Lucius Malfoy."

"We've been up against Lucius Malfoy for years. Sometimes we lose, but sometimes we don't. Trust me, we know how to win when it counts."

"Malfoy and Q are from the same world. Both move in the shadows, both never show their true intentions, both weave webs of lies. What makes you so confident you can play by their rules?"

"Oh, we've been _very_ lucky." The flirt, the brag. There it was again. He was trying to impress her. Amanda was getting frustrated – Remus didn't have the annoying arrogance of James and Sirius – so what was causing it now? Was he faking it, overcompensating?

Amanda, characteristically, got bored of equivocating and chose to be blunt. "There's no way Malfoy would agree to this unless he wasn't absolutely positive he would win. You lot, however, are fondly known for your impressive abilities at 'winging it.' I'm calling your bluff, and putting my money on Malfoy."

"You're going to feel awfully foolish, once we reveal the name of your classmate," he said smoothly. "A name very familiar to everyone at Hogwarts… including you."

Amanda looked away and smiled. He'd just given himself away. The confidence wasn't real – Alex was not 'familiar' to her fellow classmates, and no way in hell did they actually know her name. The crowd of peers wouldn't be as shocked as he was implying.

Remus, however, was feeling a bit too tight and uncomfortable in his robes. Amanda was belligerent and intimidating. Damn, it was hard, trying to provoke your attempted murderer.

Then Remus saw Sirius. More specifically, Remus saw the girl Sirius was dancing with.

* * *

The thing I've always hated about ballroom dancing is that there are two people. (Little known fact.) But seriously! Who came up with this shit? It is incredibly difficult to dance like no one's watching when someone IS watching, and they are probably attached to you with multiple limbs. They have their own thoughts and feelings, and you have your own thoughts and feelings, and sometimes you are just two very different people battling it out for the lead because, although that is usually the gentleman's assigned role, I am modern and civilized and bourgeois and thus do not see color. Or gender. This is the future, Sirius. The future is now, and it's a-knocking, and it's saying peace, equality, and granola for all!

But the smarmy boy wasn't giving me the lead. He tried to spin me, and I fought it off. I tried to press him backwards, and he stood solid, like a rock wall of manchest. It wasn't going well, and we were about to start drawing attention.

Luckily for me, the first attention we drew was from our dear friend Remus. He appeared next to me, Amanda scowling in his arms, clearly looking like she didn't want to be there (next to me, not in his arms. I think.)

Remus twirled Amanda around so that he could widen his eyes and glare at me. His reasoning seemed to be, the wider the eyes, the harsher the glare. The correct reasoning should have actually been, the wider the eyes, the more one looks like a crazy person. Especially more so since he motioned his chin towards Sirius, eyes still enlarged, and then slowly shook his head no.

This was the part where he was trying to remind me about our no-touchy-the-puppy deal.

Suddenly, his eyes got even wider. The light bulb had gone on, and it was bathing me in a new light.

It was almost too easy. All that was required was a single fleeting, panicked, and furtive glance at Amanda, and I took control of his train of thought and sent it in my favorite direction. North.

Remus' focus snapped to Amanda, who was pretending like I didn't exist. Perfect.

The music swelled to a crescendo, providing cover. For a moment, I gave in to Sirius. As soon as he relaxed, I yanked him sharply to the side, whirling us so that Amanda and I were back to back. The fast move sent me stumbling backwards into her. As we righted ourselves, I whispered against her ear, "Get him to Ravenclaw Tower - the others are there, Lucius is in my closet." The orchestra crashed down around us.

Sirius, in attempt to correct the embarrassing mess that was my original and Nobel-prize-aspiring dance moves, spun me away quickly.

Though the world was moving around me, through the swirling fabric of the dancers I caught glimpses of Amanda leading Remus away and out of the Great Hall.

That was the last time I ever saw Amanda.

Kidding!

Kinda.

Finally letting Sirius have the lead was relaxing. But being whirled around while multitasking and thinking about various plans and machinations, is dangerous — I tripped over his foot. It is important to remember when dancing, to not forget that you are dancing.

Casually, I said, "Want to know something scandalous?"

He clearly didn't see that one coming. But he recovered well. "It's extremely difficult to scandalize me."

Pointing toward the doors, I asked innocently, "So then you already know that your goody-two-shoes-Remus just snuck out — with a girl?"

Sirius' messy black hair got even more mussed up as he snapped his head in that direction. "What!"

"About time he got some," I continued fondly.

"Shit." He ran his hand through his hair, clearly not paying attention to me.

With mild delight, I watched his panic grow as he scanned the room and realized the other Marauders were not to be found.

Still the innocent, I pressed the issue. "Why so worried? It's not like he didn't go with her against his own free will." I sniggered at the joke as if I found myself hilarious. Which I did, BTW. Just not in the sexual innuendo way that it seemed. Ahh, my advanced sense of humor…

Of course Sirius knew there was no way Remus would go of his own free will.

Sirius was already on his way out, but my words reminded him of my presence. "You're coming with me," he growled, and yanked me almost off my feet.

We crashed into someone, spilling their drink. Sirius didn't slow, not even when we burst out of the Great Hall. Reaching the staircase, he said seriously, "Two things. First, don't think I'm letting you out of my sight, ever. Second, this means you are about to get dragged into a very dangerous situation. Remus is alone with the LAST PERSON he should be alone with… and she's probably done unspeakable things already…"

"Yeah she has…" I sniggered again.

"Shocked and appalled," he self-narrated. "Please feel free to turn your snark off."

Pushing all the right buttons, oh yeah. "Don't tell me how to live my life! I'll crank this snark up to medium!"

"…But then again, you're cute when you snark."

"TAKE THAT BACK. RIGHT NOW."

He laughed.

"NOW, PLEBE, OR PREPARE FOR DESTRUCTION."

"No, because suddenly I find myself in control of the conversation again, and I enjoy it a lot more."

"DESTRUCTION! FIRES ALL AROUND! BOMBS RAINING FROM ABOVE! TOTAL ANNIHILATION!"

"Just because you're yelling it doesn't mean it's happening."

"Just because you're attractive doesn't mean people take you seriously." I tried to take two stairs at a time and failed miserably, stumbling into the wall of the spiraling staircase.

"You could run a lot faster without that dress," he pointed out.

"You could run a lot faster if I were punching you in the face."

"But you think I'm attractive, so, you wouldn't dare."

"Fact: battlescars are the aphrodisiac of our generation."

Sirius gave me a strange look, pausing at the last step to wait for me to catch up. "Where are you getting your facts from?"

"A legitimate news source, it's kinda new, it's called the internet."

"Heads up, you're a witch, you don't need Muggle technology."

"Science and magic both have their positives. Here, try some old fashioned reasoning." I pushed him toward the eagle on the door.

The eagle glared at him, then spoke. "What is a question no one can ever honestly answer yes to if the answer is yes?"

"What the shit?" Sirius shook his head at the eagle. "That riddle is too hard. Give me another."

The eagle screeched, then repeated the riddle.

Sirius glanced back at me. "Reasoning is impossible."

"So do you admit you're wrong?"

"No. I'd like to see you try." He looked pleased with himself.

"Fine," I said, brushing past him. "I'll handle this."

Raven the Eagle squawked, and the door swung open for me.

"How'd you do that?" Sirius asked in awe.

"Magic."

Inside was a line of four chairs. Remus, James, and Peter were sitting in three of them, magically bound and looking very confused.

Paul and Amanda stood in front of them, looking at me. "What are you doing?" Amanda demanded.

Ah, good. Paul had debriefed her.

"Oh… uhh… sorry?" I started backing away. "I clearly am not supposed to be here…"

"Stop. You know too much already. _Expelliarmus!_"

Sirius' wand shot out of his hand. There were some expletives.

"You, come here," she commanded me. I obliged.

"And you," she turned to Sirius. "99% of my tolerance is used up by 1% of the time I spend dealing with men like you. Go occupy that chair."

* * *

Author's Note: Dear reviewers, you guys are hilarious and amazing, and I hope this chapter brightens your day.


	22. The Chapter of Double Agents

Author's Note: Nice to see you again, I never was able to respond to the last chapter's reviews, but this time it will be different! A couple of announcements: 1) there will officially by 25 chapters total and thus the end is nigh 2) yes, the 3 spies you are about to read about were all real people but any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

Amanda, looking like a haughty and very pleased cat who had just caught its dinner, had the four Marauders magically restrained to their chairs. Paul, The Muscle, was at her side, an intimidating image in black, shrouded in his black robe and a drawn hood that shadowed his face. This was to hide the fact that Paul did not have any muscles.

And I was trying to hide behind a pitiful potted cactus.

"Gentlemen." Amanda smirked, and lifted her chin at Remus. Remus continued staring back in disbelief at his former date. "We're all friends here. Let's be honest with each other. When did you uncover the true identity of Q?"

"Right now," James said cheerfully. "Great job, team!"

"Yeah, there's no way Malfoy can win now!" Peter joined in.

Remus coughed, then said weakly, "Knew you had our backs."

Amanda let loose a quick, short laugh. "Nice try. You had your suspicions long enough that you were able to devise a plan to draw me out. But you sent _Remus_ to the a battle of wits? Please. The gig was up after the first thing he said."

"_What the hell," _whispered James, "_was the first thing you said!"_

Remus tried to shrug his stiffened shoulders. _"Um, 'Hello there, pretty lady.'" _

"_Yep, definitely gave it away."_

"There is really only one option here." Amanda pretended to look thoughtful. "Luckily, it's a win-win solution."

"Solution for who?" James said. "_We_ don't really have a problem to solute. We either win the bet with Malfoy, or we don't. But now that we know exactly who you are, Amanda Rosalie Lestrange, it looks like we win practically by default. Your problem, of being exposed, is not really _our_ problem."

"Actually, you have _many_ problems, James Potter, mostly psychological. But bravo on your bravado. However, I think your problem is quite a bit more serious than mine."

"No, I've seen a doctor, and it's not fatal, thanks though."

Peter snorted, and Remus covered his reaction with a small cough.

Amanda locked her eyes on Remus, and said lightly, "You're a werewolf."

Everyone froze.

"Wonderful, now we can consider these matters more seriously." She casually examined a fingernail, then turned to Sirius. "Darling, let's discuss."

Without hesitation, the previously silent Sirius spoke. "The Unbreakable Vow."

"Deal."

"_Padfoot!" _That high pitched squeak was James. Peter looked too shocked to speak.

"That is _not_ an option, Sirius. I will find a way –" Remus started, his face pale.

Sirius didn't look at him. "Whatever it takes to end this business forever."

Amanda flicked her wand, and his hands snapped free. He extended his right one to her, and she stepped forward to grasp it strongly. Paul moved forward to rest his wand on top of their handshake. I couldn't see his eyes, but it felt like his gaze was turned toward me. I shrugged slightly.

"Will you, Amanda, agree to never reveal that Remus is a werewolf, and that James, Peter, and I are Animagi, as long as we never reveal your identity as Hogwarts' elusive Q?"

Smart boy. He knew that the Unbreakable Vow was a death trap unless the terms had conditions on both sides.

"I will–"

Sirius' left hand shot up and grabbed Paul's wand, just as red tendrils of flames unfurled from the end. His fingers tightened over Amanda's struggling hand, holding it in place as the fires danced over their grip. His left hand snapped Paul's wand up – "_PETRIFICUS TOTALUS"— _and Paul froze – "_EXPELLIARMUS" _– and Sirius' right hand dropped Amanda's and caught her wand midair.

Sirius paused.

Her own wand held to her forehead, Amanda sighed. "Oh good lord—"

"_Immobulus_," Sirius said calmly.

Amanda fell.

Breathing heavily, he elegantly tossed his hair out of his eyes.

Hot damn.

"_Relashio_." Remus was the first one free.

"Sirius, mate, you _did not have to do that!"_

"That was AWESOME!" James sprang up, eyes wide.

Peter's jaw had dropped, and even though he was free to move again, he didn't.

But Sirius didn't respond to his friends' astonished babbling and thanks. Instead, he turned to me.

And yes, I was still crouched behind my cactus, Floyd. He was a good cactus, and had defended me well.

"You might have helped out a bit more." His tone was disapproving and judgmental, and something inside me went _fizzle._

Standing up, I replied hotly, "I didn't want to get dirty."

His gaze fell pointedly to my side, where my silver dress had split almost up to the hip, thanks to one of Floyd's prickly spines. But Floyd had done it out of love! You know, like most ripped dresses, _if ya know what I mean, wink._

"I meant get my hands dirty. You know – _involved_. Not my fight. You guys are into some crazy messed up no good stuff. And so… goodbye!" I waved my fingers and headed for the door.

Sirius stepped smoothly in front of me. "Not so fast. We still have a bet to win."

"Didn't you just Unbreakable Vow that chance away?"

"Loopholes." He smiled smugly. "Q is not going to get away with all the crap she's put us through. I do not take attempted murder easily. _You're _going to be our spokesperson."

"Oh hells no." _Attempted murder? What the hell was he talking about?_

Remus spoke, cautiously and carefully, as if it hurt him. "Sirius, I think she works for Q."

The smug smile turned into icy steel. Sirius slowly leveled Amanda's wand at me.

* * *

And that's how, at midnight, I found myself standing in front of hundreds of faces, all anxiously excited, waiting on my every word. Everyone clutched their glasses and held their breaths. Even the professors, standing to the side, were too curious and/or intoxicated to interfere. Amanda was positioned as if asleep in a chair, where she would be released from immobilization at the necessary moment by Peter who was standing nearby.

"Ahem." My magically-amplified voice echoed. Sirius' wand jabbed my side, invisible in his robes, his arm snaked around my waist. It threatened a Crucio Curse, and Sirius seemed chillingly silent – I had no doubt he would damn the law and perform the curse. After all, I was in his arms, a picture of affection. He would never be caught.

The three Marauders towered behind me, exuding victory and manliness. On the way down to the Great Hall, every time no one had been watching my face, I had magically applied more and more makeup, until it was almost grotesquely caked on and had completely changed the shape of my cheekbones, eyes, and lips. The Marauders hadn't noticed the gradient of change, but to the strangers I was publicly addressing, I was unrecognizable.

"Hogwarts, this is the life changing moment you have been waiting for," I said dryly. "As Lucius Malfoy has decided to disappear rather than face the embarrassment of admitting he knows the identity of Q no more than you all do, it is clearly obvious which devilish bastards have won the bet." Emphasis on the bastards.

The wand poked me hard, and I lost my breath for a moment. "Less sarcasm. Add some of that emotion you are incapable of," muttered Sirius through the bared teeth he was passing off as a grin.

"WITHOUT! FURTHER! ADO!" I shouted emotionally.

Sirius grunted.

"Q is…"

"Alex Moore," Lucius Malfoy drawled, breaking from the crowd and strolling up to me. "How delightful to see you doing so well for yourself."

* * *

SUMMER, FIFTH/SIXTH YEAR; VIENNA, AUSTRIA

"Colonel Gordievsky." Lucius' eyebrow arched in a cognizant manner as he gave a downward nod.

"Oleg!" I exclaimed delightedly, detaching myself from Lucius' arm and holding out my gloved hands to the Soviet diplomat.

The strongly built Russian pressed his lips to the white silk with proper military courtesy, but under his mask of politeness my trained eye caught a few crinkles in the corners of his eyes. "What a pleasure. Miss Moore, have you joined your parents in Vienna for the remainder of the summer? I trust you enjoyed the first act?"

"Very much," I affirmed. "_La Traviata _has all my favorite operatic themes."

"Ill-fated love?" Colonel Gordievsky's thick accent was emotionless.

"Alex and I are companions only for the performance," Lucius returned smoothly, but the medal-studded Colonel was distracted by the Swedish Minister of Finance – "although a gentleman does not kiss and tell_"_ – which I ignored – and we took our leave.

"KGB intelligence," Lucius stated in a bored tone.

"Double agent. Father's latest asset."

"Impressive," he drawled, reconsidering. "Isn't he—?"

"Yes. In charge of Soviet espionage on British soil. A _very_ useful asset."

"Jonathan saves our country once again," he murmured. "Speaking of MI6, that buffoon has sighted us."

That buffoon turned out to be Sir Maurice Oldfield, the round, ruddy, and balding Chief of Her Majesty's Secret Intelligence Service, who was popping out of his expensive waistcoat. He waved to us with his glass of port before turning back to his conversation with Lucius' gorgeous mother and a few of her acquaintances, all wives of French politicians.

We smiled politely and I waved back. Luckily Arianne Malfoy, dripping in diamonds and ermine, was the preferable object of the intolerable man's attention. Knowing Mrs. Malfoy, Sir Oldfield was most likely being convinced to finish the season in Paris, out of Father's way.

The soft scent of citrus gave me a half second of warning. As silent as a fox, Mother appeared at my side, her dark hair beautifully drawn up to display pearl earrings which were shining dramatically in the chandelier candlelight.

"Alex, darling, I just noticed you admiring your Father's new acquisition. It is indeed impressive, isn't it Lucius?" The full force of her slender mocking smile briefly fell on my handsome companion, who to his credit, didn't flinch. "Now, have you met my new _triple_ agent? Arkady Shevchenko, United Nations Department of Political Affairs, is under that balcony there."

"I thought you weren't legally allowed to show favoritism toward any one country," Lucius said, bemused.

"Oh, it's just a bit of healthy competition with my husband. He's been cocky lately, and it doesn't become him."

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

"_INTERMISSIONO!"_ I shouted, panicking.

Time froze inside the Great Hall. The sudden silence reverberated in our ears. James, Remus, Sirius, Lucius and I were left inside our own bubble of time.

"_What the—!"_

"_How did she—"_

Sirius said, "_Alex."_

"It only lasts for one minute," I said through gritted teeth as I shouldered the weight of the spell. The Time Charm had never actually worked for me before, and I was completely unprepared. Just like I was unprepared for this moment.

I was exposed. Naked for the first time in front of the man I had kidnapped and the man who had kidnapped me. Was this how kidnapping rings got started? Had I inadvertently become a mob boss? Because if so, I was okay with that. Also, mob bosses got exposed occasionally. And then they killed all the witnesses. Wait what? I didn't just say that…

Unfazed as always, Lucius, with a despicable smile, held up a scrap of parchment. Horrified, I read the words scrawled on it by my own hand.

Sirius, who had jumped away from me, stared at us.

"This is the end, my dear." Lucius smiled slyly. "Your reign is over."

"Lucius," I said. "Lucius, dagnabbit, you can't—" _or I'll have to kill you…_

"NO," said Sirius, as he realized.

"And I do not snore," Lucius stated.

"I know."

"What do you mean, you know…?" Sirius asked slowly. "Stop distracting me! Wait!" He shook his head, messing up his hair. "Wait, NO!"

James went _eep!_ and whipped the Marauder's Map out of his robes.

"Wait, YES,"James. "Padfoot, your precious _Alex_ doesn't show up on the map. And Q, who was been trying TO KILL US, doesn't show up on the map!"

"Did you say KILL?" I asked. _How did they know my future mob bossy plans!_

"But we already know who Q is—" Remus started.

Sirius' sudden movement startled my reflexes, and within nanoseconds we were pointing wands at each other.

"_So_," I breathed, staring him down. "_It has come to this_."

He looked too confident, like he had a plan. But having seen him previously try this trick with Amanda, I knew what was coming.

His free hand flashed out and snatched the wand in my right.

My left fist simultaneously punched him in the face.

The time bubble burst.

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

_Lucius awoke groggily in the cramped darkness, vaguely feeling like something fuzzy might have just licked his ear._

"—cius!"_ a voice in the distance was saying. _

_There was a note next to him. His eyes slowly focused on the barely visible message._

Dear monster, please accept my humble offering, eat him quickly, sorry but he snores.

_A hand found his and pulled him out from under the bed and onto his feet. _

"_Wake up, you need to get down there," Amanda snapped. "She's about to win."_

* * *

Author's Note: HA. _I strike again._


	23. The Chapter of Secret Histories

Author's Note: Another one already? Goodness, I must be amazing. Disclaimer: once again, I did not make up historical figures. "C" was very real.

* * *

ZEROTH YEAR

"Still bored, darling?" Father looked up from the papers on his desk, his quill paused. "Ah, not that one."

My finger dropped from the spine of a dusty tome (_The Monster Book of Monsters)_ on his shelves, and I climbed down from the leather couch. Father had dared me to find the secret passage hidden in his office. "My letter hasn't arrived yet. Lucius says his came yesterday."

"The boy was lying," said Father. "Did you notice it this time?"

"Yes." I sighed, running my fingers across the fireplace mantle, searching for cracks. "You were right. His microexpressions are very uncontrolled."

"Use that to your advantage while you can. I expect him to gain command of them as he ages. His self control is astonishing. In a few years, he will be as unreadable as Abraxas."

Pushing on a silver candlestick, I caught the regret in his last words. "But Abraxas Malfoy is your best friend!"

"Yes, and I know him too well to trust him."

"Oh. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," I recited.

"Exactly, darling. Exactly."

"His snake-headed cane still gives me the creepy crawlies."

Father chuckled. "Me too."

After flopping onto the floor, I stared at upwards, examining the vaulted ceiling. "What if I don't get a letter from Hogwarts?"

"Then I'm sure you'll die. In the meantime, would you like to forge my signature onto these important papers?"

"Yes!" I jumped up. "Where? What do I sign?"

Laughing, he handed me the quill. "Here. Write a big cursive M, like this one." He pointed to the mark at the bottom of a piece of parchment entitled IMMEDIATE ORDER FOR ROGUE AGENT TERMINATION.

"Is the M for Moore?" I asked, gleefully scrawling the quill across several documents.

"Partly. The M has a secret history behind it."

"Secret histories," I declared, "are my favorite kind of histories."

"Then you'll like this story. Your great great grandfather, Mycroft, was a brilliant man who realized that the wizarding and muggle worlds were intertwining dangerously. He took secret control of Britain's political affairs. To protect his identity as a wizard, he never used his full name, only an M. When Sir George Mansfield Smith-Cumming created MI6, he followed this tradition, signing official documents with a C. Interestingly, he was appointed Britain's spymaster because he successfully posed undercover for years as a German businessman, even though he didn't speak German. Anyway, initials like that became the codename for all future Chiefs of MI6."

"And the secret Chiefs like you?"

"Yes. When a wizard is in charge of MI6, we always use the letter M. One day, you will too. But not too soon, or I'll fight you for it!"

"I'll win," I pointed out. "I know all your secrets, sensei!" Reaching across the desk, I spun a dusty globe until a click sounded. A trap door dropped open from the ceiling.

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

The implosion stunned everyone. Except me, of course.

Not bothering to survey the damage I had caused, I quickly grabbed my wand off the floor where Sirius had dropped it, and slipped into the crowd before anyone could follow what was happening. No one in the crowd had gotten a good enough look at me past the first few rows of bodies, so it was easy enough to disappear while the attention was on Sirius and Lucius. Judging by the sounds he was making, Sirius was probably an interesting sight.

_Merlin's beard my hand hurts it hurts so much I need an illegal knuckle transplant why didn't I just replace all my limbs and become a humanoid that would have been so smart all my punches would have been ROBOT PUNCHES._

Taking brief cover behind two large Puffs in the back who were too busy in a chugging contest to notice me, I grabbed each side of the cactus-induced slit in my long silver gown and ripped the whole thing off, revealing the sexy black little number underneath. A quick magic rinse of my face took off all that ghastly makeup. After pulling out a few pins and letting down my mousy hair, my fast wardrobe change left me unrecognizable from the girl who had just revealed herself to all of Hogwarts.

Funny how thick makeup and similarly colored attire makes all young girls look the same from a distance. Generically pretty girls in silver consisted of about a third of the bodies in the Winter Ball, and I knew that Lucius and the Marauders had probably recovered and were trying to find me. Good luck to them, for I am a wildcat and will never be caged, as it says on my business cards. True story.

"Alex?" a timid voice said. It was Lars, thank god, who had arrived late to the party and was only just entering the Great Hall.

I grabbed her arm and yanked her down with me under the nearest table, just like the time Amanda and I had done the same in the boys' dormitory. Oh no, Amanda! I couldn't abandon her to their whims! No child left behind!

"What's happening?" Lars was confused and a bit terrified. "Where's Paul?"

"Lucius escaped and blew my cover to the Marauders," I explained as we scrambled toward the doors on our hands and knees. Lars was having difficulty, and I pretended to be a soldier in a trench, crawling with my elbows, so as not to move too fast for her. "Paul is in Ravenclaw Tower, victim to the Body Binding Curse. You'll need to go save him before he gets caught, the Ball was over at midnight and everyone will be heading back to the dormitories."

Reaching open space, I helped Lars up, linked our arms, and marched confidently out of the Great Hall with our backs to the melee. After all, hiding in plain sight is my signature dish. (Usually served flambé, but for obvious reasons I've only ever actually tried that once.)

"Did he get hurt? Is he alright?" She was trembling. "Are the Marauders coming after you?"

"Go to him, young padawan." I commanded, and released her in the direction of the staircase. "All will be well."

Her eyes wide and bewildered behind her glasses, Lars didn't look like she believed me, and her worrying was making her frizzy hair curl even more, if that was possible. But after giving me a two-fingered salute, she ran up the stairs.

Plastering myself against the wall right outside the doorway, I reached into my pocket for my wand. My fingers brushed against the magically linked earrings that Amanda and I had been using for communications. Examining them in my palm, it was obvious that one of them had been smashed. But the other one had soft noises coming out of it. I held it up to my ear.

"_Surely we can settle this like gentlemen," _said Sirius' gravelly voice.

Miracle of all miracles, when Amanda had thrown down her earrings, they had ended up in _exactly_ the opportune spot. I slipped the earring on.

A ripped sliver of silver fabric had gotten snared on my wand, so I transfigured it into a small mirror, and angled it so that it showed the inside of the Great Hall.

Searching through the crowd of legs and robes, I tried to see if Amanda was still unconscious — nope, she was gone, and Peter had taken her place, motionless in the chair.

That sneaky vixen. I had taught her well. _Too well._ Wait, what?

"_Feel free to announce my victory at any time," _Lucius offered.

James snorted. _"You didn't win. We captured her, for Merlin's sake!"_

"_Yes, and you clearly had no idea the value of what you had accidentally stumbled upon," _Lucius sneered. _"She wasn't about to give herself up, and you were utterly convinced by my lovely red herring here," _

"_Hello, boys," _said Amanda.

AMANDA? The mirror tossed aside, I stuck my head through the doorway, horrified at the unbelievable.

Lucius took her outstretched hand and kissed it. "Lovely show, my dear."

She smiled thinly at him, then addressed the others. "I'm afraid Lucius claims this conquest."

AMANDA. MY AMANDA!

"This is – this –" James sputtered. "This is not happening."

"We will end it in a draw." Remus stepped in. "No one takes the credit."

Murmurs started. The crowd was growing uneasy. They couldn't hear the conversation, and they wanted to know what was happening.

"Moony, don't be the voice of reason," Amanda said with cruel sarcasm.

AMANDA NO. WHAT ARE YOU DOING. BAD KITTY. STOP THIS. STOP THIS NOW.

"Just admit that Lucius has been ahead of you this whole time, so we can all go home and you can crawl back to lick your wounds," she continued mockingly, flicking her fingers.

BUT AMANDA, YOU'RE ONLY THIS MEAN TO PEOPLE YOU LIKE. RIGHT? RIGHT?

"However," Lucius considered. "Black, I am open to negotiation."

"Saywha?" Remus and James didn't follow.

"But she's evil," Sirius protested with his hand on his sore jaw, ignoring James. "She sent us threatening messages, sabotaged James' broomstick, and tried to burn Remus alive. _And she punched me!_"

"Then why do you look as if you'd curse me if I tried to say her name again?"

What were they going on about? I was only guilty of two things on that list. Threatening the Marauders and planting a beautiful fist flower in the zen garden of a handsome face that completely deserved it. And possibly being evil. But I hadn't really had time to dabble in the dark side yet, as my years had been occupied trying to keep the Marauders under wraps. So who knows where my true intentions might lie?

"Oh yeah? Say her name." Sirius dared, crossing his arms.

"Serious?"

"Yes?"

"Fool. I meant, are you serious?"

"Don't you know who I am? Way to be in your own head, mate. Too much ego. That's not popular with the ladies, and I would know."

Lucius was getting annoyed. "_Alexandria_," he breathed.

Sirius glared at him, then swore. "Damn you. Fine. You win, as long as we keep her out of it."

Lucius' smile was insufferably mocking. "Perfect." He elegantly extended his hand.

"Good," snapped Sirius, and they firmly shook hands.

Amanda, carefully watching them, visibly relaxed. The handshake looked disturbingly like Lucius passing ownership of me over to Sirius, and I knew Amanda was interpreting it in the same way.

I had created her, but I never foresaw this. Amanda was in love with Lucius. AND SHE HAD BETRAYED ME FOR HIM?

Curses, it was so obvious now! All her sass and sarcasm and attitude… I had spent years curbing and bridling her desire for power. My specialty was the shadows, but clearly Lucius had given her a taste of the limelight.

This was the first time in our lives that she held more power than I did. Curse her, she was enjoying every second of it.

Dear god, the world would never survive the pair of them. There was no choice, I had to terminate this rogue agent. Plans blossomed in my brain, and I almost felt normal again — until Sirius spoke.

"MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE," Sirius shouted. "ALL PARTIES ARE IN AGREEMENT THAT LUCIUS MALFOY IS THE WINNER OF THIS BET, BUT UNFORTUNATELY WE ARE NOT DISCLOSING THE IDENTITY OF Q AT THIS TIME."

Fish-faced, I gasped for air. Funny, hadn't even noticed myself holding my breath.

The disgruntled onlookers buzzed and several loudly voiced their displeasure.

"AS PER THE TERMS OF THE BET, THE LOSERS WILL BUY DRINKS FOR ANYONE GOING ON THE NEXT TRIP TO HOGSMEADE. THIS MESSAGE WAS BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. THANK YOU, AND GOODNIGHT."

The boos turned to cheers. However, by Remus and James' terrified expressions, it was clear that Sirius had just made that last part up.

With the drama over, the students started filtering out of the Great Hall. I waited against the wall for ten minutes, watching their reactions, studying them like a lioness studies her prey. But, you know, not literally. Maybe literally. My tummy was growling. I tend to stress eat.

They laughed, gossiped, and split up to head to the dormitories. Everyone was elated, and emotions were relaxed.

One Sly said as he walked through the doors, "You know, I didn't actually expect Q would let them play out their game."

He was met with general agreement.

"It was too good to be true," a friend added.

"I don't know exactly when, but Q totally stepped in," a Claw girl said excitedly. "You can tell."

"Definitely," the Sly agreed. "That strange ending had the mark of Q all over it."

* * *

Author's Note: Jonathan :D


	24. The Chapter of Making Out Like a Bandit

Author's Note: Please proceed immediately. I did it – I finally finished the last two chapters. The adventure is over and I'm giddy and tired and happy.

* * *

SIXTH YEAR

The Marauders walked right past me. I resisted the urge to dive into the shadows and instead leaned nonchalantly against the doorway, an impatient tilt to my head as if I were waiting for someone. James had his arms around the broad shoulders of Remus and Sirius, which were drooping, the poor things. Peter, having regained consciousness from Amanda's sneak attack, trailed behind them, rubbing his temples.

Not willing to risk the chance that one of them might glance back, I quickly slunk back into the Great Hall, against the flow of some Puffs in flouncy gowns who were making fun of that ridiculous girl who Sirius Black had the misfortune of choosing as his date. Charlotte looked _much_ better in her own similar silver gown, they assured a distressed blonde, and she wasn't to give that face-painted harlot another thought.

"Don't worry, I heard that girl is mean." I reached out to the side to give Charlotte a supportive pat on the back and promptly smacked into Lucius' black satin-suited chest.

Amanda was attached to his arm. Amanda, who had crafted the art of keeping her eyelids half closed in perpetual languishment as if she couldn't put in the effort to raise them further, actually stared at me in surprise. It was not a flattering expression on her so I was proud when she recovered quickly.

A firm yank sent Lucius back against her and away from me. Throwing herself into his chest in the airspace I had just vacated, she tossed her hair back and brought her face up, demanding a kiss.

Never taking his eyes off me, he obliged.

"Alright, children, enough of that." I stuck my wand between them, giving it a hearty wiggle to break them apart. "Amanda, you'll want to dart ahead and amuse yourself elsewhere. Mr. Malfoy and I have a discussion to continue."

Amanda's fierce confidence was gone again. Her mouth formed an O but no words came out.

"I'll have him back to you in one piece," I said sweetly.

Her hesitation – insecure and unsure of herself – was all too recognizable. It was a hard fall from Lucius' queen to a dismissed nuisance.

I smiled at her. This was apparently all she could take, so she pulled Lucius down for a peck on the lips as a sort of last stand, then released him and hastily glided away in an effort to compose herself somewhere else.

I didn't acknowledge her depart. My eyes stayed locked on Lucius'.

"Alex," he drawled immediately, relishing in the sounds of my name. "Evenings with you are always so invigorating. I owe you for initiating these delightful affairs. "

"You are using her," I accused, ignoring his innuendos.

"Maybe," he admitted. "But she knows that. It no longer matters, as I am about to lose her trust again – she is growing a soft spot for Lupin."

HA. Smirk. "I know. And he currently hates her. I couldn't have arranged it better myself."

Lucius blinked slowly and pointedly, waiting.

I laughed. "Oh, I forgot, I _did_ arrange it."

"Congratulations. They will soon fall madly in love and I will have lost a valuable asset."

"You can have Paul," I offered. "As long as you give him the occasional scratch and take him for long walks, he'll be loyal."

"As loyal as he can be while also reporting back to you?"

The least I could do was an apologetic shrug. "That's a given."

"Your fox and puppy hold no further interest for me." Lucius stepped forward, forcing me to look up in order to meet his gaze. For once, his smile actually reached his eyes. "My most favorite pastime is playing with someone new to the game." He brushed back a strand of hair from my bare collarbone.

"New? Who—"

I was interrupted. Lucius was KISSING ME.

What. In the. Hydrofrack. For the second time in only a couple hours, my brain was stunned into a frozen nothingness.

NOT AGAIN. WHY AGAIN. WHY WHY WHY. I _HATE_ THIS FEELING! THIS IS THE _WORST_ FEELING IN THE WORLD!

I will IMMEDIATELY start a fund for unfortunate peoples who aren't me and therefore suffer this nonsense often.

This HORRIBLE silence in my head is UNBEARABLE – where are the devious plans? The knowledge that I know something he doesn't? The clicks as everything falls exactly into place? That mental image of a pineapple in the back of my mind? THE CONSTANT WHIRR OF THOUGHTS AND ACTIVITY?

Oh. THERE it is. Thinking about not thinking means I'm thinking. THEN WHY IN THIS CURSED WORLD CAN'T I MOVE?

His left hand settled on my waist while his right arm slid up my back and pressed me closer. My eyes were closed – when did that happen? Goodness, all my organs and appendages were betraying me today. It made me all too aware of his scent – clean, fresh, and expensive. Clean-shaven and cold, his chin was refreshingly smooth.

His gentle nudge parted my lips. This wasn't happening. It wasn't. There was no way I was being kissed like this by Lucius Snakey Smooth Talkin' Ice Princess Malfoy. And… I couldn't move.

My arms stayed at my sides, but my hands had clenched into fists.

And just like that, my brain was in control again. I used one of those fists to punch him in the gut.

The poor guy doubled over on me. I braced against him, then delivered a second blow. The breath left his lungs and he coughed against me, trying to recover it. This was the first time I had ever heard him make an unattractive noise. It made me smile.

The thing about criminal masterminds is that the dislike of getting their hands dirty is only superficial.

I held his weight upright until he straightened, black suit crumpled with the green and silver tie askew. Although he was breathing hard, he still casually fixed the tie.

Placing my forearm across my stomach and resting the opposite elbow on it, I held up my index finger. "Never rush a kiss. The suspense is one of the greatest parts."

He gazed down at me and smoothed his luscious blond hair back into place.

My second finger went up. "Don't trap her arms. Luckily for you, I dislike touching you."

Something that sounded a lot like a snicker escaped his lips.

"And most importantly," the third finger waggled with self-significance, "only heathens use tongue that quickly. What happened to your gentlemanly manners? Lose a bit of polish when passion gets involved, eh? Don't worry, happens to the best of us. Well," I reconsidered, "except for me." Sympathetic, I clapped him on the shoulder. "But don't hold yourself to such high standards of excellence. Many a man has found ruin down that path."

"Obviously ruin is about to befall on one more." He paused with a hint of a smile. "Oh, I do so look forward to it."

"You're referring to Sirius." I shook my head. "He's not one of our players."

"Black will be inducted soon enough. He already knows the truth about Q. And then, the real games can begin."

"Um, Sirius is currently under the mistaken impression that I am an attempted murderer, god knows why. Also, I happen to be departing from Hogwarts shortly and perhaps permanently."

Lucius shrugged nonchalantly. "In order to win the bet, I may have sabotaged their attempts to uncover your identity and blamed it on you."

"You –" I stared at him. "Oh, _curse_ you!"

"Apparently Sirius doesn't scare off quite so easily. Not that I was in any real danger of losing, mind you. Insider trading is such an advantage."

"But I never told you the truth."

"Really, Alex." Lucius laughed lightly. "Who _else_ could possibly be Q? I knew immediately."

"I knew you knew," I snapped. "I just never figured you would orchestrate my downfall. After all we've been through? Honey, how _could_ you!"

"The Austrian exchange? Bosnia? The Prime Minister's missing satchel?" He pretended to consider. "Oh yes. You humiliated me in front of a gorgeous opera star, stole the credit for my ceasefire charm, and planted the satchel amongst my personal belongings."

"But a) your pathetic flirting was embarrassing me ('Those beautiful vibrations from your throat must only come from… practice…' really? _Really?) _and we needed to get her letter to my father quickly, b) that charm only took hold after I had talked the rebels into dropping their weapons, and c) that was really really funny."

Someone laughed, and it wasn't Lucius.

Lucius spun around. I didn't move. I'd been expecting our eavesdropper.

"Oh, Sirius," I called. "You may join us now if it pleases you."

Sirius stepped into the doorway, hands clasped behind his back.

"This has been very enlightening," he commented, strolling toward us. He wasn't looking at me. So I didn't look at his loosened scarlet tie and undone top shirt buttons and ruffled hair.

Drattedness. He still hated me. It was going to be tricky to neutralize these two guys who both had unkind intentions toward me, resolve this mess, and of course, at the end of this disheartening day, still make out like a bandit.

"My sympathies, Malfoy. Her fists come out of nowhere." Sirius flashed Lucius a sloppy grin that went unappreciated by its recipient.

"I did warn you," I pointed out. "You didn't believe me. You thought I wouldn't dare."

"Clearly you don't find me as attractive as I previously assumed. However, you did try to bamboozle me with mistletoe. Rather tactless, wouldn't you say? But if you're kissing Malfoy in deserted ballrooms, one can only assume that you are desperate. Murdering sociopaths usually are."

"Yes, I'm desperate to be rid of you."

"How unfortunate. I do hope you don't resort to homicide again. I'm desperate to get some questions answered. Shall I restrain you, or can you restrain yourself?"

Inclining my head toward Lucius, I said, "Your kindred spirit over there is actually the sociopath in this situation. But please feel welcome to keep aiming your snark at me. Why stop now when you've been doing so well!"

"What." Sirius' slightly hostile yet teasing demeanor vanished. In its place were a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes directed at Lucius.

"My sympathies," mocked Lucius. "All's fair in love and war."

Sirius' voice took on a certain coldness. "Don't I now believe it. You certainly have no qualms in either arena. Of course. James' snapped broomstick, the fireball that almost hit Remus, the Ashwinder, all the threatening notes… it all _reeks_ of your nastiness…_"_

"And just as I expected, you conveniently assumed it was Q." Lucius smiled smugly.

"Hey now," I interrupted. "That last bit really was me. I'll take that credit, thank you very much, and suggest that you might not want to delve too deeply into that area, as Lucius doesn't know what you're talking about."

Lucius was about to say something but he stopped to try to figure out what it was that he didn't know. Confusion was not a sexy look for him.

"Oh, and by the way, smart thinking with that Unbreakable Vow. Too bad you made it with the wrong person, leaving me free to spill all the secrets I want." I mirrored his own sloppy grin back at him.

To my surprise, he laughed delightedly at my not-so-subtle threat. "You are the best-turned-worst-turned-best thing that's ever happened."

I was caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

An awful small smile appeared on Lucius' face and he stepped back with a swirl of his black robes. "And _that_ must be my cue."

This time, Lucius was the one Sirius ignored. He was occupied with grinning at me. "No, this is _my _Q."

Lucius' grace wasn't fooling me for a second. The only reason he was withdrawing was because I had slipped him a hint of Sirius' secret, and I may or may not have done it on purpose to let him know that even though he had just achieved a major victory on me tonight, I was still better at this than he was, which made him need to investigate this new tidbit information immediately — wait, _what_ did Sirius just say?

Sirius smirked. "Oh, and Malfoy…"

Lucius, already halfway out of the Great Hall, turned back. "Hm?"

"_This _is how you kiss a girl."


	25. The Chapter of the EPUFMA

SIXTH YEAR

Sirius' finger, crooked under my chin, had raised it up to meet his mouth for his stolen kiss. Pausing for air, he said, "This is my apology for almost blowing your cover," and then kissed me again.

Everything was different from Lucius' cold and gentle attempt. It was rough from Sirius' five o'clock shadow. It was delicious from the minty candy canes he'd been snacking on all night. And it grew more forceful and heavy as soon his hands found their way up the sides of my face and he pulled me closer.

It was a connection I never, ever, wanted to give up, and I returned it gleefully.

Eventually, we parted gasping. Grinning adorably, Sirius tried to catch his breath, his black hair elegantly falling over his eyes.

"I did warn you," he imitated my previous condescending words, "that I would get the girl."

"One kiss does _not_ mean you got me," I retorted.

"Oh, does two?"

When we were finished the second time I tried to glare at him. "You only 'got me' in a way you didn't anticipate. Because you stumbled across my identity. And you held me against my will."

"You held _me_ against _my_ will."

"You went up to Ravenclaw tower _willingly_. Technically, you are the one who dragged me along. For my delightful company and scintillating conversation, probably."

"You manipulated me into thinking it was my own idea. That counts."

"_You_ held me so tightly against my will that everyone in Hogwarts now thinks we're together!"

Sirius chuckled. "We _are_ together."

"How considerate of you. I wouldn't have wanted to be the first to receive this information, rather than the _last_."

He moved so quickly that it startled me and I had to fight the impulse to throw him on the ground. Luckily I controlled my reflexes and ended up passively in his arms, still glaring at his mocking smile.

"I am being held against my will _right now_," I declared.

"Ha," he said, bringing his lips down onto mine for a few delicious seconds. "As if you couldn't easily escape."

I couldn't help but laugh. He didn't know how close he had come to an accidental broken bone.

"You realize that Lucius Malfoy is currently trying to figure out your deepest, darkest secret?" I asked, changing the focus from me.

"Should I be worried?"

"Nope. I covered your tracks a long time ago just in case you two ever accelerated your rivalry to dangerous levels. In the next day or two, he's going to discover that all of the Marauders' suspicious activity leads to a club whose ten members meet in secret once a month to write extreme poetry. You haven't missed a meeting for years, according to the signatures in the guestbook. The club president will rave on about your delivery of 'The Lost Fragrance of Grandma's Potpourri' last month and the others will swear by your brilliant internal rhymes but admit that your metaphors need work. James insists on putting his dramatic poems to music, much to everyone's dismay, and there are several voice recordings avaliable. Remus only writes about treacle and Peter has a romantic soul. Of course, Lucius will know it's nonsense and that I'm behind the whole thing, but he won't find definitive proof. All clues lead to Extreme Poetry Under the Full Moon Anonymous."

Sirius's expression had changed to awe.

I poked him in his rock solid chest. "Not just a pretty face, am I?"

"I am definitely in love with you," he decided.

"Really now. It's been all of two minutes."

"Don't belittle my love."

I pushed out of his embrace. "Freedom!" I shouted, throwing my arms in the air. "Glory!"

"SPARTA!" he joined in, striking a pose.

"Goodness, what are you doing?"

"This is my fierce warrior stance."

"You look like a drowned ninja. Fierce arms look like this." I demonstrated.

"Now _you_ look like an deflated emu."

"Aha!" I cried. "Your metaphors remain your biggest weakness."

"I didn't choose poetry life, poetry life chose me," he said woefully.

And then we were grinning stupidly at each other again. This nonsense had to stop.

"Just so you know, I'm leaving Hogwarts tomorrow on a deadly secret mission," I said causally, examining my fingernails.

"Whatnow?"

"I have to rescue Dumbledore, my mother, and the Queen."

"Okay. From…?" he asked promptly. I decided maybe I liked him maybe a little bit.

"Russian witch assassins."

That got a pause. "I assumed there's a longer story..."

"Well," I started, not hesitating to tell him everything. There would be no keeping family secrets from this new boy of mine. "Mother is sort of… the hidden Wizarding World representative within the United Nations. And she uncovered this Cold War assassination plot the Russians are planning during the Queen's Silver Jubilee. So she's currently with the Queen as her bodyguard — well, lady-in-waiting. Only the Russians found out about her, but she can't let them know that she knows or they will search for other wizard bodyguards, like Dumbledore, whom she called in when she first became compromised."

"And where does your rescue come in?"

"While I was looking for Dumbledore in the seedier parts of London, I stumbled across the Muggle organization that is funding the assassination attempt. And they aren't Russian at all. And they certainly know enough about the Wizarding World that they managed to hire the Russian witches. Mother and Dumbledore know nothing about any of this and are in extreme danger."

He shook the hair out of his eyes. "You know this is impossible to believe."

"Yep. Welcome to my life."

"And a unique one it is. So, you're welcome," he said graciously.

"For what?"

"Saving Q."

"I had that situation _completely_ under control," I sniffed.

"Oh yeah? Like how you keep Malfoy under control so he never goes renegade and surprises you?" His voice was sexy with sarcasm.

"I've had Malfoy under control for ten years. He's allowed to test me occasionally."

"Ten years?"

"Family friends. Our parents are both in the business of international affairs."

"Your father?"

"British Secret Service."

He considered. "I suppose now that you've told me, you'll have to kill me."

"Eventually," I confirmed cheerfully. "There are many reasons why I want to kill you."

With a laugh, he nudged me. "I never should have believed you actually wanted to harm us. Q is a crusader against violence."

"Unwarranted violence," I corrected. "There's nothing wrong with a little ass-kickery when the time calls for it."

"Yes, I am very familiar with your violent tendencies." He pointed to his jaw. "So you owe me for quite a few things. Therefore I think you should tell me what Q stands for."

"I disagree completely. Because I don't want to take the mystery out of our relationship."

After a chuckle, he said, "It's good we have each other."

"Well, I'm about to leave you," I pointed out.

"You could never leave me. As for the rescue mission, I'm joining you." One eyebrow raised up, daring me to object. "You know how effectively we fought together during the Ashwinder incident. You need me."

I raised my own eyebrow at that.

"Well, you never knew that you needed me. But now you do. Hell, I'm an _Animagus._ So you really should be bribing me for my services and catering to my whims." He gave me a smug smile.

"Listen, plebe. The _only_ reason I am allowing this is because my sidekicks just abandoned me for a cute girl and a slick snake, respectively. Also I prefer to be over-prepared. Along with a can-do spirit. But you don't know anything about spying so I'll have to train you and it will be hard. You'll probably lose a limb."

"Deal. If you tell me what Q stands for."

"Sure. Cucumber."

_FIN._

* * *

Author's Note: I'm completely and utterly indebted to everyone who out up with my sporadic updates these past four years. It's indescribably fulfilling to see my story resonate with so many readers, and I never would have completed it without your support. If you want more of Alex, Paul, Amanda, and the Marauders' antics, you're in luck — I'll be uploading a chapter or two of outtakes. But there will be no sequel. (However, you can always PM me questions about their unwritten future adventures.) Aside from the upcoming Q goodies, I have a few original stories in the works... who knows, maybe my zombie western or swashbuckling pirate adventure or highwayman will take The Mark of Q's place as my priority project...

If you leave any reviews, I'll write back to you. To new readers who were lucky enough to read the story in its entirety, be glad that the blow of the many cliffhangers was softened for you. And for everyone, peace and happiness and always stay on your toes!


	26. Outtakes part 1

Welcome to the Outtakes!

Take a look at our intrepid explorers: see link on my author page.

* * *

Ch. 16  
Alex: Whistle whistle, as I walk down this dark alleyway in the dark alleyway parts of Liverpool… (THUNDER ROLLS)  
Nefarious Street Gang, emerging from shadows: HaHA! STABNATION.  
Alex: There you are, lads… (LIGHTNING FLASHES) Don't mind me as I reach into my coat… and pull out… FLUFFYKINS!  
Nefarious Street Gang: pauses  
Alex: Not so stabnationy are we now, huh?  
Gang man: Put.. the dog… down… and you may yet live…  
Alex: I rescued your adorable little ball of fluff from your rival gang and this is all the thanks I get? I "may yet live?" A bit disappointed in your gang man style! Now, I have a different idea…

* * *

Ch. 22  
Alex: New plan for a career change, Amanda. Take notes.  
Amanda: I will not be taking notes.  
Alex: First step to becoming a mob boss, chew on cigar and glare at people from under brim of hat. Second step, find cement. Then bury it.  
Amanda: Er…  
Alex: Also, say things like "You're a dead man, Wally!"  
Amanda: This will not make you a mob boss.

* * *

Alex, sings: We were both young when I first saw you!  
Sirius: Yes yes, I know you think that Taylor Swift narrates your life…  
Alex: Don't you worry your pretty little mind, people throw rocks at things that shine!  
Sirius: … but trust me, those lyrics have nothing applicable to our relationship.  
Alex: You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter!  
Sirius: Your father is the most careful adult in the country and he fully endorses everything you do.  
Alex: I am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion!  
Sirius: If there's barging in to be done, you'll be sending someone else in to do it.  
Alex: Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down!  
Sirius: Do you even know what color my eyes are?  
Alex: I knew you were trouble when you walked in!  
Sirius: I'm the definition of a safe bet compared to you.  
Alex: She'll never know your story like I do!  
Sirius: Because you SPY ON ME.  
Alex: You have pointed out my flaws again, as if I don't already see them! Why you gotta be so mean?  
Sirius: …  
Alex: Even when you're sleeping, keep your ey-eyes open!  
Sirius: What have I let into my life.

* * *

Dumbledore: The entire Slytherin Quidditch team is currently throwing punches on the field.  
Alex: How odd.  
Dumbledore: They keep screaming about betrayal.  
Alex: Boys will be boys.  
Dumbledore: You wouldn't happen to have any part in this, would you?  
Alex: Violence? Surely not!  
Dumbledore: eyebrow raise  
Alex: I'm a lover, not a fighter.

* * *

Alex: I've never understood why you are so popular. You aren't on the Quidditch team, you aren't friendly, you aren't THAT good looking. You've really got nothing going for you!  
Sirius: DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM ON THE INTERNET?

* * *

Jonathan Moore: When the day comes for me to retire from MI6 —  
Alex: Oh, Dad! You don't look a day over 50!  
Jonathan Moore: Thanks, I'm 42 — I can easily step down, knowing that our country is safe in the hands of a very capable member of the next generation.  
Alex: Aw, shucks. You're making me blush!  
Jonathan Moore: Not you. Your boyfriend.  
Alex: THIS IS NEPOTISM.

* * *

More to come.


End file.
